Scribe of Hearts
by sansreality
Summary: Takuma used to be happy but now he's too busy being a workaholic. His only source of joy is writing as the popular mangaka WAKE. But when a story ending incites anger, he is forced to write a normal, happy shojo. Using two familiar models as inspiration. ShikixRima
1. The tale of a lost man begins!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Vampire Knight_. That lovely story belongs to Matsuri Hino. I am merely writing this fanfiction for enjoyment and the only thing I own is the concept and plot for this story.

**Beginning Note: **Thanks for taking the time to click on this story and check it out! I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

* * *

**P E N – O N E  
**How did I become a shell of the past?

"Sir, I'm sorry to say this but there's been a malfunction."

The voice on the intercom produced no change in Takuma's outward demeanor. The smile on his face shined as bright as day. His green eyes glowed with fervor and enthusiasm. Behind the facade, however, the vampire was sighing in exasperation. He should have known a malfunction would happen. He should have expected a large amount of stress in his day's – or rather night's – horoscope. He should have seen it coming when the day went by so smoothly. He had gotten to work and found his desk free of documents to sign and approve. He had received a call canceling the dreaded Council of Elders meeting he had to attend. He had even managed to catch up on much needed sleep. His days were never _that _easy.

But he only wished the stress would come early in the night – when he had all the energy in the world – instead at two in the morning when he was dead, tired, and in desperate anxiety to return home. It seemed life always wanted to be especially difficult just for him.

He bit his lip but kept up the mask of joy. "What type of malfunction?"

"We might need to recall some of the products shipped out."

His hands clenched onto the armrest of his chair. It was getting a lot harder to force a smile on his face. He didn't even understand why he was putting on an act. It wasn't like his secretary could see him. She was talking with him on the phone.

"Oh really?" His voice kept its usual light tone. "For what products?"

"The tablets."

"What tablets? We sell a lot of different tablets."

"The blood tablets, sir."

_Oh damn it_. He took in a deep breath and tried to control his voice. Fortunately, none of the venom present in his thoughts showed in his tenor. He sounded like he normally did – sickeningly bright.

"What happened with the blood tablets?"

"One of our workers accidentally pricked his finger while preparing the tablets. Some of his blood got into the mixture."

_Oh hell._ The night was just getting worse by the second. He imagined the malfunction would have been something as simple as broken machinery. But blood in the blood tablets? Whatever god playing with his fate must have been having a burst of inspiration right at the moment. It took a lot of creativity to think up of a complication like that. He would applaud said god for ingenuity if he wasn't the one suffering for it.

"Um, Ichijou-san? What should I do?"

While his secretary sounded cool and collective before, she now seemed nervous. His prolonged silence must have caused her anxiety. She was probably wondering if he would suck her dry as punishment or enact some other form of punishment. She didn't have to worry. If he was going to suck anybody dry, it would be the god controlling his life.

"Issue the recall order then," he finally said after deciding the next course of action. "I want to make sure that all the contaminated blood tablets are collected before a riot occurs or something of the like. I'd like to stay away from Hunter Association intervention if I can."

"Hai, sir."

"And also, don't reveal why these blood tablets are being recalled. I'd rather not get anxious phone calls from other higher powers."

"As you wish, Ichijou-san."

The intercom beeped announcing the end of the call. Takuma groaned and leaned back on his chest. Looking up at the ceiling, he questioned if there would ever be a day when he could relax. When he could just close his eyes and enjoy life. Ever since his grandfather got murdered by Kaname – or as everybody liked to say it, properly executed for his crimes – his very existence had become draining. Lumped with the job of leading the newly formed Council of Elders, Takuma found no time to breathe. It didn't help that he also had to manage his family's companies. He had become a hermit, obsessed with work and only work. He couldn't remember the last time he actually talked with his old friends, the vampires he attended Cross Academy with for his high school years.

There was only one source of joy left for him. He prayed that he would have time to partake in that hobby later in the morning.

His cell phone rang, awaking him from his reveries. He shot up from his chair and grabbed it. Placing the phone by his ears, he answered the call.

"Ichijou Takuma, moshi-moshi."

"Hello," a soft voice spoke from the speakers. "This is Fukui Izumi, your marketing consultant. I bring you great news, Ichijou-san."

"Really?" Takuma asked. He put on his normal grin again. It was easier to sound eccentric when he acted as if he was truly jolly. "Great! I need to hear something uplifting right now."

"Work troubles, sir?"

"As usual."

A chuckle could be heard from the other line. "Well, you'll be happy to know that I was able to find the two models you were looking for."

Takuma brightened at the news. He had been searching for models willing to sign a contract with his PR company, Miracle Capella – one of the many divisions that his company, Miracle Ltd., operated in. It was a hard process. Most models preferred to work under their agencies' terms and the agencies rarely agreed to an exclusive contract. Izumi Fukui, however, was a master at her job; she always got her client's wishes completed. He never doubted she would accomplish the mission. The only question was who she got.

"Who are the models?" he asked.

"They are one of the most popular models in Japan," Izumi explained, "and they're becoming very celebrated in the world, too. They're the power duo of all models, loved and acclaimed for their beauty. And the great part is, they're vampires, too. So no problem about keeping that secret."

"Okay, okay," Takuma interrupted the consultant's spiel. "I get it. They're really good models. But who they are?"

"You won't believe this. You'll squeal when you hear their names."

"I get it, Fukui-san. Please just tell me the names."

"I got you Senri Shiki and Rima Touya."

The names registered in Takuma's mind. The models sounded familiar. In an instant, images of the two's appearances in ads flashed through his mind. They _were_ very celebrated models. For the past few years, they had been featured in famous magazines. They had been interviewed by the most popular entertainment stations. They had been awarded several different honors for their work. Apparently, the two started in high school and unlike most models, they had been able to maintain their popularity well into their adulthood. Izumi had made a good choice – brilliant, in fact. He beamed at the prospect at having the two working for him.

"You've really outdone yourself, Fukui-san. You really have."

"I always do."

Takuma leaned back on his chair at that comment. He could imagine the woman grinning triumphantly as she said those words. The thought made his smile grow larger.

"So I emailed you pictures of the two and some of their work," Izumi continued to say. "Some pictures to let you get a gauge of what to expect from them. Afterwards, we can just schedule a meeting for them to discuss the contract with you and we'll be set and done."

"Perfect. I'll take a look at the images before I leave work. And I'll talk to you tomorrow about scheduling the meeting with them."

With those words, he ended the call. Taking his phone, he quickly connected to the Internet and accessed his email. As Izumi said, there was an email from her containing several attached photos. He pulled up several. When he scrolled down to look at one image, he felt his heart stop.

On his phone's screen was a beautiful image of a man and woman. Both were dressed in evening wear. The man wore a tuxedo with a red tie that brought out his brownish-red hair. The woman wore a dark blue dress matching her equally blue eyes. They stood on a balcony staring at the stars which were actually diamonds. The man held in his hand a black box containing diamond ring. The woman was decked in various jewelry, all made from glittering diamonds. It was an advertisement for a jewelry company, stunning and bound to catch anybody's eye. But what captured Takuma's attention the most was how familiar the models appeared.

Though he had some memory of what Senri Shiki and Rima Touya looked like, his memory was hazy. He had only seen them in magazines or the television and all of those glances were passing ones, brief and without a care. But now as he scrutinized their image, he felt a sense of déjà vu gazing upon their features. The fine eyebrows, the blank expressions, the whole personas – everything felt familiar. He had met them before in a more personal way. But the only question was where?

He ran different hypotheses through his mind. Maybe he once ran into them in one of his parties and soirees. Maybe he had passed them in the street without knowing. Maybe they ate at a restaurant where he frequented. Another thought came to him but he felt dread and doubt with it. Maybe he had known them when he was in high school. Maybe they were members of the Night Class.

It would make sense. The two were vampires – influential ones, too – and the Night Class contained only noble vampires of high standings. And it wouldn't be peculiar that he forgot about them. He had forgotten mostly everything about his teenage years. His old friends, his old hobbies, his old life, nothing remained within his heart. Years of working and partaking in as little social activities as possible – except for required socials and meetings – had made him become a recluse. The only thing from his past was Kaname Kuran, who he still met. But that friendship was hardly as strong as before and he mostly saw the pureblood to conduct business concerning the Council. Everything else had disappeared from his thoughts. He was a shell of the vampire he once was.

Takuma continued to look through the photos. All the pictures were nice representations of Shiki's and Touya's work. They were definitely marvelous models. There was no reason why he would deny the opportunity of working with them. Having the two as models for his Miracle Capella would bring much more potential customers.

The office phone rang. A beeping red light indicated his secretary was messaging him. He pressed the required button and his secretary's voice filtered in through the intercom.

"Ichijou-san," she said, "I have launched the recall news to newspapers and news stations. I've also called our distributors to send the message."

"Good," he answered. He didn't care to put on an act of cheerfulness. He was starting to become tired from his work and excessive ponderings.

"Is there anything else you want me to do, sir?"

"No. You may retire for the day."

"Hai."

He ended the call and leaned back on his chair. He ran his hands through his blonde hair and groaned. His phone was thrown back on his desk, the image of the two models disappearing from his view. Closing his eyes, he wished he could return to his past. He wondered if he could go back and make a different decision – choose a different path, a path where he was happier. Where he wasn't so lost and dissatisfied.

**SoH**

When Takuma arrived home, the sun was close to being blindingly bright. He closed the shutters of all his windows before dragging his feet to bed. He cast a longing glance at his work room. Before he could stop himself, his feet led him to the room and he peered inside. His work table was in pristine condition as it always was. He felt an urge to start working on the new layouts again but he decided against it. It was close to morning, he was tired, and there was no way he was going to forego sleep. The layouts could be finished later. He just had to go a day without working on his greatest joy.

Instead he slinked off to bed. Not bothering to shower or even change out of his clothes, he fell back onto his bed. He pulled at his tie to loosen it and unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt – all to prevent constriction when he was asleep. Snuggling into his warm sheets, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't one of those difficult mornings, those mornings where he tossed and turned until he settled down. His mind easily hazed. His senses dimmed. In a few minutes, he blacked out.

**SoH**

The phone rang.

The blaring of the rings forced Takuma up. He blinked. The sun was exceedingly bright suggesting it was near noon. He stared at his cell phone. Did he really need to answer the call? He was still tired and he wasn't really a morning person any longer. While he used to enjoy the sun, he shirked away from it recently. The ringing continued. Takuma shook his head and fell onto his bed again. The call probably wasn't that important. With the decision made, he ignored his phone and returned to sleep. The ringing stopped. He sighed in contentment as the cacophony ended. The ringing started again.

This time, he sat up. It was clear whoever was calling wouldn't stop bothering him until he answered. With a groan, he reached for the phone and answered it.

"Ichijou Takuma, moshi-moshi," he managed to drawl out.

"Takuma, I sometimes do intensely wish that you'd go to hell!"

The shout pierced Takuma's ears. He brought the phone away from his ear and blinked at the phone. Did he just hear the person correctly? Or was he being delusional?

"What?" he muttered in confusion.

"You drive me crazy sometimes, you know!" the speaker continued to ran out. "I wonder if I ever did something to you in our past lives for you to cause me such stress and suffering. What? Did I kill your entire family or something?"

Takuma stared at his caller ID. Everything clicked in his mind as he saw the name on the phone's screen. He was talking with Katsuro Wakahisa, the editor of ReMi, the popular monthly shojo magazine. The man always managed to be hysterical, especially around Takuma.

Knowing this, he rolled his eyes. His confusion and distress at the caller's words washed away. Katsuro's rants were an added bonus with being friends with the man. Takuma had nothing to worry about.

"What did I do now, Katsuro?"

"What did you do?" Katsuro's volume was rising by the syllable. Takuma winced at how deafening it was. "What did you do? You've started a pandemonium, Takuma!"

"Eh?" Takuma processed the words but he didn't understand what the man was saying. Katsuro was speaking gibberish. Maybe it would have helped if Takuma wasn't so fatigued.

"That ending of yours!" Katsuro shrieked. "I told you we shouldn't have run it. Why the hell did you have to make it so damn bloody? I'm looking through the pages right now and I don't remember seeing this much blood when I was approving the edits."

"Oh that?" Takuma asked. He shrugged though the editor couldn't see him. "I felt there wasn't enough blood so before I sent the copies to the publisher, I just added a bit more. I still don't think there's enough."

"There wasn't enough blood? There wasn't enough blood! Takuma, if you added one more drop of blood, we'd have to file the story under a 'Mature' rating rather than the 'Teen' rating it's getting right now!"

"How did my story just skip the 'Older Teen' rating?"

"Now isn't the time to joke," Katsuro seethed.

Katsuro was clearly furious. Takuma could see the man growing red and jumping up and down as he always did when he was angry. Katsuro was probably pulling on his black hair and glaring daggers at the phone right now. Normally, Takuma would try to calm the man down through persuasion but he was too tired to tread the dangerous waters carefully.

"I don't really get what you're trying to tell me," he said.

"What I'm trying to tell you," Katsuro said enunciating every word, "is that you've angered all of your fans with _Sky Requiem_'s blasted ending!"

"Eh?"

"The ending, Takuma," Katsuro repeated. "The ending where you killed off every single lovable character. I knew it. I knew the ending was a bad idea. We should have done something else. Now, my bosses are giving me hell for what happened. And the fans are giving me hell, too!"

Somehow, Takuma's mind was able to register the gravity of the situation. He became alert and hung onto Katsuro's every word. He gripped his bed sheets.

"What happened?" he asked.

"All of our readership read the ending and are freaking out right now," his editor explained. "I'm receiving angry emails right now. I've forwarded all of them to you."

"Wait a minute!"

Takuma shot onto his feet and ran into his study. Turning on the computer, he tapped on the computer impatiently. _Come on. Hurry up._ Finally, the computer loaded up. He logged on, accessed the Internet, and signed into his email. His inbox was filled with hundreds of emails – all forwarded by his editor, all written by his fans. He warily selected one email.

What met his eyes was a long line of all caps writing and exclamation marks. His eyes skimmed through the writing. Several curse words caught his attention. But he noticed other words. Words like heartless, cruel, insane, and spiteful.

He looked through the other emails. All of them bore the same message and tone. All shared the emotion of anger.

He arrived at one particular nasty email. Though it bore no curse words – the swearing being filtered by dashes – it was clear how furious the writer was.

_Dear WAKE, _it read_. You are such a -! Why did you have to kill off all my favorite characters? Masaki and Hiroshi should have ended up together, gotten married, and lived happily ever after. But then you killed the protagonists. You killed the destined lovers. And you didn't just kill them. You tore them apart and massacred them. Have you no - heart? Did a man rip your - heart into shreds that you are unable to have any compassion? Go to -! I used to love your stories. I've been a fan of you ever since you published your first manga. I loved you so much that I even ignored the fact that you never wrote a happy ending for your stories. But those tragic endings made sense. This was just plain ridiculous. You've destroyed my faith in mangakas, you -. Wishing you were dead, A Loyal Fan_

Takuma winced at the message. Every word felt like a shard running through his heart. He placed his phone back to his ear.

"Katsuro, I've read a few of the emails," he whispered.

"Now do you understand?" Katsuro asked. "Now do you understand what you've done, Takuma? Or should I say, WAKE?"

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**A/N: **To be honest, I felt out of my element writing this first chapter. The genres of my stories are **very **different than the genre for this one. Also, my first chapter (or rather prologue) usually involves murder and clearly this one doesn't really have any of that – unless you count the murder of some manga characters Takuma created. With that in mind… what do you think? And did I portray Takuma okay?

Thanks for reading this! Reviews are much appreciated and will be cherished forevermore.


	2. The fateful proposition is given!

**Disclaimer: **As we all know, _Vampire Knight _and its wonderful characters do not belong to me. Hino-sama is their creator and respective owner. The only thing I own is this plot along with Katsuro and Izumi.

**Beginning Note: **Thank you very much for all the reads and especially thank you to my reviewers (Darkemi, angelle, and XxXShikiandRimaXxX).

* * *

**P E N – T W O  
**Why did I have to incite the hatred of my fans?

"Now do you understand?" Katsuro inquired, his tone sharp and biting. "Now do you understand what you've done, Takuma? Or should I say, WAKE?"

Takuma grimaced at his editor's comment. He closed his eyes trying to block the ugly truth out. Still the contents of the email stayed rooted inside his mind. He couldn't forget what he read. The cruel words haunted him. He had caused a massive onslaught of anger and disappointment from his fans. It was unintentional but that fact didn't make the situation any better.

"Yes, I understand," he finally answered after some silence.

"So what are we going to do now?" Takuma's admittance had calmed Katsuro. The man now sounded resigned to what had happened though there was still a trace of his previous anxiety.

"You're the editor, Katsuro. Don't you know how to handle these situations?"

"I've had moments where fans did send hate letters but never like this, Takuma. You've really screwed everything up."

Takuma chuckled bitterly at those words. Putting on his usual fake smile, he chimed, "You're welcome, Katsuro."

"I see. So that's how bad you're feeling?"

Takuma had to hand it to Katsuro – the man was the only one who saw through his cheerful front. He was the only one who understood Takuma's sunny attitude was a way of hiding his distaste in situations. Though Takuma used to be sincerely bright, his happy disposition was now more of an opposing reaction to his true feelings. The more cheerful he was, the more frustrated he tended to feel.

"Well, just give me a minute," Takuma said. He moved his mouse and clicked on another email message to read. "I'll just get through these emails you forwarded to see what damage I've caused. Then I'll call you back with the fix."

Katsuro expressed consent with the suggestion. A moment later, the call ended. Takuma was left to his computer and the glaring emails spamming his inbox. Stretching himself, he prepared for the horror about to await him. He readied his pride and feelings, blocking them away. He would have to remain indifferent to everything he read. He blinked. He might as well also get his eyes ready for the onslaught of swearing and death threats he was about to see. With a deep breath, he immersed himself into the emails.

Though every email bore the same idea, each one had its own personal flavor. It was amazing how much personality went into these notes. And the creativity in use of curse words was astounding, too. Takuma had a lot to learn from his fans.

Despite his attempts to think sarcastic, light thoughts, he felt a pang in his heart as he sifted through the emails. His fans had always been loyal supporters in all his stories. Even before he published his first multi-chaptered manga, he had received love and enthusiasm for his various one-shots. His popularity only soared when ReMi ran chapters of _Sky Requiem_, his first full-length work that went beyond one volume. Sometimes he would get sent various gifts or candies. The support was invigorating. In his darkest hours, he would pull out a letter – usually one praising him and telling him he is an inspiration – to read and it made everything feel better. But with just one chapter, he had managed to ostracize even his faithful fans.

He was basically alone.

The thought made him cringe.

He read through his last email. Deleting it, he sunk into his seat. He buried his head into his hands and rubbed his face. The situation was horrible. He could see no way he would be able to fix the mess he made. He was starting to regret the ending he wrote. At the time, he had thought the ending was brilliant – bittersweet and meaningful. But now, he was wondering if his sadistic streak somehow overcame his rationality.

His phone weighed in his hands but he managed to dial the number anyways. The dial tone barely started when Katsuro answered the call. Clearly, the man was anticipating his reply.

"So?" Katsuro said, foregoing any formalities.

Takuma rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling and leaned back on his chair. "Well," he began, "apparently all my readers under the impression that I am: one, a heartless woman scorned by her lover and out to ruin romance; two, a hideous recluse and witch who has no life; or three, an evil vampiress bent on seducing people with my stories before sucking them dry of life and happiness."

There was a beat of pure silence. When Katsuro resumed speaking, he sounded confused and exasperated. "Takuma, you know I wasn't asking you about what your readers thought of WAKE."

"I know," Takuma replied. He rubbed his temples. "Establishing reader impression is important in deciding how to conduct damage control." He sat up. "You don't think sending a fruit basket might help?"

"I doubt it."

Though the answer was expected, it still caused him to slump over his desk. His chin resting on the tabletop, he huffed. "Okay. So how about a very apologetic letter?"

"It might make some fans happy but as the emails have shown, it won't help you regain your old reader base."

The blatant disapproval of his plans made Takuma frown. He was trying to formulate a good strategy but it was difficult. The anger he caused was too great; it would take drastic measures to restore his reputation to what it was before. There would have to be a huge amount of work placed into the effort. The only solution would be to get reinforcement though he preferred to not get the ReMi executives involved.

But he had no other choice.

With a sigh, he sat back up and suggested:

"Maybe we should call an editorial and directors meeting to fix this."

**SoH**

"I'm sure you can probably reserve a place at the Imperial Hotel." Takuma entered the office building. Walking past the receptionists, he smiled to them before saying to his phone, "The owner owes me a favor and the restaurants there always leave a few rooms unreserved for last minute calls by anyone of influence."

"But do you think Shiki-san and Toya-san will like the restaurant?" Izumi sounded nervous. The woman tended to be a perfectionist. This resulted in her tendency to fret too much over trivial matters. "Why would they be? The Imperial has the finest restaurants in all of Japan. Nobody would find a problem with it."

"Okay… what restaurant then?"

"Let's go with Les Saisons. I'm in the mood for some French cuisine myself."

Takuma stepped inside the elevator. Selecting the floor he was interested in, he waited as the doors slid shut and leaned back onto the railing. Red numbers flitted on a screen as he progressed towards the top floor. The metal door reflected a distorted image of him but he was still distinguishable. Dressed in slacks and a sweater vest thrown over a loosely buttoned dress shirt, Takuma looked normal. There were no traces of his position as the CEO of a Japanese conglomerate. The appearance fitted a mangaka which was what he wanted. He _was_ inside the ReMi magazine office building after all.

"So you'll be there at six today," Izumi asked, her voice accompanying the low hum of the elevator. "Six sharp right?"

"No worries," Takuma answered. "I'll be punctual or fashionably late. Either way, I doubt I'd offend the two. They're models – not a grave businessman ready to chop my head off if I come a minute tardy."

"But we never know," she protested.

"And fretting over it won't do us any good. As I said, no worries. I'll make a good impression on the two."

"You better. It was hard to find models willing to sign an exclusive contract with you."

"I know. I know."

As Takuma said those words, the elevator dinged, an indication he had arrived at his floor. The door slid open and he stepped out.

"Text or email me anything else you need," he quickly said as he strolled down the hallway towards the secretary's desk. "I have a meeting to attend. Sayonara."

"Okay, Ichijou-san," she said. A second passed before she made a soft 'oh' sound and scrambled to say, "Wait, also I –"

Takuma didn't let her finish. He was already in front of the secretary and she had smiled as greeting. Ending the call, he placed his phone in his pockets. Elbows rested on the desk as he brightened his face.

"Konnichiwa," he said. For good measure, he smiled. "I'm supposed to be attending an emergency meeting with the board of directors and editors."

The secretary started to twirl a strand of her hair. "What for?"

"It's regarding the ending for _Sky Requiem _by WAKE." Takuma pronounced those words dryly. The pain of anger he incited still had not died away. It had only been two days since Katsuro sent him news about the catastrophe he started.

Upon hearing his answer, the secretary's light humor instantly died. "I see. The serious issue." She stood up and bid him to follow her. "I don't know how you're involved with what has happened but the situation is dire. A lot of our shareholders and stockholders have been furious by the reaction. We need to quell the readers as soon as possible."

The two weaved through different hallways. Despite his great sense of direction, Takuma felt lost as they turned and turned around several corners.

She looked back at him. "We decided to launch a special magazine in two weeks with WAKE's apology and now, all editors and mangakas are working to provide some chapters to publish. Now, I'm saying this to offer some explanation as why you'll find the meeting lacking in members. The board of directions are gone appeasing the stockholders. And the editors are overseeing the chapters being written and drawn."

The two arrived at a door to a conference room. The secretary pulled it open.

"In fact," she said motioning him to enter, "with you, they'll now be two people. Best of luck and I hope you'll find a way to alleviate this situation."

Pleading eyes shined back at him as he walked through the doorway. She gave him an encouraging smile before the door slammed into his face. The heavy bang reverberated off the walls. He stood motionless for a moment. A soft cough brought him back to reality.

A long table stretched in the center of the room. Sitting at the far end of the table was a young woman. Soft honey-colored curls framed her face. Hazel eyes focused on documents before flitting towards him. A smile graced her face. The woman did not possess captivating or stunning features but she had a quality about her that entranced the eyes. Charming was the only way to describe her beauty.

"Ah, you've arrived," she said as she stood up to greet him. "I don't know if Sachiko-chan told you but it will just be the two of us today in this meeting."

"So I heard," he replied.

She didn't seem to hear his reply. She was too busy straightening her papers and getting everything ready for the meeting.

"Yes, well, we had to take drastic measures with the reaction," she continued to explain. "And though it is unprecedented, we felt a special issue might smooth matters over for some of our readers."

"I see" was all Takuma could muster to say.

She halted in her menial tasks and looked up. Her eyes locked with his. She pursed her lips and scrutinized him.

"So you really are WAKE?" she asked. A tint of uncertainty colored her words.

He didn't meet her gaze as he answered, "Yes."

"Strange. You never seemed like the type to create such depressing endings."

Takuma felt his face grow red at those words, though he wasn't certain if it was from embarrassment, anger, or both. "The ending for _Sky Requiem _wasn't depressing. It just wasn't happy," he argued. As soon as he said those words, however, he caught onto the implications of the woman's statement. "Wait. You're speaking like you knew me once."

The woman's face took a soft shade of pink. Her eyes followed her fingers as they traced pictures on the tabletop.

"Well, I didn't really know you exactly," she said. "But I did hear enough about you and see you to get _some _impression of your character." She looked up again. "I'm Wakaba Sayori." She bowed in greeting. "I was a Day Class student at Cross Academy and Yuuki's best friend until the vampires attacked the school and she broke off all contact with her human life."

Takuma had no reply. He could only gaze at her silently, perpetuating the discomfort in the situation. Her blush grew darker.

"But the past shouldn't matter much, Ichijou-sempai," she said taking a seat on her chair again. She motioned for him to sit at a chair next to her. As he did as she asked, she added, "What matters right now is fixing the problem created by your manga ending. You see, though ReMi isn't an important asset to my family – that's why I run the magazine instead of my father – it still is a very profitable asset and my family is concerned. It's not just ReMi's reputation at stake; it's also the business."

"Understandable," Takuma agreed. He could see the financial costs incurred from the incident. He did run several different businesses.

"So let's just jump straight into the problem and focus on that massacre ending."

She leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek. With a wave of her hand, she signaled for him to start talking. Takuma felt off-put by the action; he was the one who usually controlled the meetings. It took him time to think of a suitable reply.

"I don't really understand what the big deal about the ending was," he tried to explain. "I only killed off five characters out of a cast of fifty. The ending was hopeful. One of the protagonists – the sister – was able to reinstate a more functional world compared to the original dystopia."

Sayori nodded her head though her expression spoke anything but approval. "The problem was _who_ you chose to kill. Somehow you managed to kill all the characters the fans loved the most."

"One of the killed was a random messenger who only appeared every five chapters!"

"And yet all the fans loved her."

"And another was a villain." He folded his arms across his chest at that point.

"And you drew the villain so deliciously handsome that the fans loved him, too. You _are _appealing to a reader base consisting of mostly teenage girls and young women."

Takuma had no response to her argument. She had a point though he hated to admit it. With a tip of his head, he motioned for her to continue and donned a smile to appear more agreeable. "Furthermore, you killed off the two protagonists in the story," she elaborated. "The destined lovers that everybody was hoping for a happy ending for."

"Two of the three protagonists. As I said, I let the sister live."

"But nobody liked the sister, Ichijou-sempai. She was rather annoying." Sayori leaned forward and shook her head. She thumped her hand on the desk, an affirmative action to precipitate what she said next.

"My point is that the fans were most enraged that you killed the lovers. This _is_ ReMi magazine we're talking about. We mostly serialize shojo romances where there is either a happy or bittersweet ending. Stories like _Bubblegum Pop _or _Eyes Watching the Stars_ – you know, normal high school romances or even the star-crossed lovers ordeal. But none like what you managed to create. Your story reads like a Greek tragedy and that isn't what readers expect from ReMi."

Sayori's words were reasonable. They were more than reasonable. They were completely true. Takuma had pushed the bounds of readers' anticipations with even the concept of _Sky Requiem _and the ending he chose was the breaking point. Still, whether out of obstinacy or a desire to explain himself, he couldn't help but argue his point.

"I hinted at the tragedy from the beginning," he noted. His smile remained on his face and it felt horrible to be talking of death in such a light manner. But he wanted to be friendly with Sayori and he was afraid his affability would fade if the smile disappeared. "I had an oracle predict that two lovers must sacrifice themselves for the future generations. Throughout the story, I interspersed suggestions that a happy ending wouldn't be possible."

"Yes," she agreed, "but the fans hoped those hints were for suspense. Truthfully, I thought the same, too. Apparently, you were actually serious."

"But Masaki and Hiroshi were not killed for no cause. They were _sacrificed _for a happier future and sacrifices are the norm."

Sayori raised an eyebrow at his last statement. She said nothing; no sound came from her throat. But the expression on her face told Takuma everything. He could just see the question on the tip of her tongue.

_What happened to you? _

No doubt she was bewildered. If he was in her shoes, he would be too. He created a reputation in the Day Class as cheerful and welcoming. Who would believe the Takuma Ichijou of Cross Academy would now be writing stories where every ending was miserable? Who would believe he had changed that much in less than ten years? Certainly not the Takuma of the past. And certainly not Sayori Wakaba.

Sayori cleared her throat to distill the uncomfortable air. The effect was an invisible fog of tension which the two pretended to ignore.

"Your poor choice in character deaths aside," she said, "we now have to find a solution to the chaos you've created. The special issue and the apology will help us regain some readers back but it won't be enough. We need to do something more."

"And do you know what that will be?" he asked.

"Luckily, I do have an idea but I want to make sure you'll agree with it."

Her words sent a shard of suspicion through his heart. He narrowed his eyes. If she needed to ensure permission, it meant her idea would not be favorable for him. "And what idea is that?"

"Simple," she said with a shrug. "We'll try to appease the readers by declaring that WAKE's next project will be a romantic comedy shojo set in a normal world where there is no such thing as nonhumans, magic, and destructive ploys. That way, there is no doubt the ending will be happy."

"You do know vampires exist," he pointed out. "Nonhumans and destructive ploys _are _normal."

She furrowed her eyebrows in exasperation. "Yes but our readers don't know that."

"So I just write a normal romance?" He nodded his head as he considered her words.

"Yes," she replied with a smile seeing he wasn't adverse to her suggestion.

He stroked his chin as he thought through everything. "What about?"

"I don't know. You can come up with the details. Just make sure it is a proper romance."

Crickets might have as well chirped because the sudden silence was the most dead and uncomfortable quiet Takuma had ever witnessed. He stared at her waiting for an elaboration. She stared at him waiting for a confirmation he understood. Moments passed. Her eyes widened. She realized what was happening. He faked interest in staring out the window, unwilling to meet her gaze. She played with the cuffs of her blazer.

"Well, it's simple really," she said. "Especially if you –" She stopped herself and peered at him with curious eyes. "Have you ever fallen in love before?"

He blinked at her question.

She bit her lip seeing where the conversation was leading. "Or gone on a date?"

Another blink was his reply.

"It doesn't need to be recently," she added. She was trying to get at least one indication of 'yes' from him. He could tell her tries were futile. "It can be several years in the past."

He decided to diversify his responses. This time, he only stared blankly at her.

"Or maybe you've flirted with a girl?"

He smiled at this wary question. Her face fell. She understood what the action meant and it wasn't at all in her favor. At the moment, he pitied her. He was making the situation hard, wasn't he?

Seeing the conversation was going nowhere, Sayori sighed and buried her head in her hands. She gazed despondently at him. "Do you even have a romance bone in your body?"

He gave a sheepish grin. "Don't know. Been too busy to try it out."

A soft exhale of breath was her reaction to his answer. She shook her head and started mumbling some incoherent words. She was running some possible solutions through her mind. Finally, her focus returned back on him.

"Regardless, we're sticking with this plan," she said. "It's the best way to remedy this situation. I expect a basic concept outline with character sketches and projected plot in a week."

"A week?" Takuma felt his confidence dissipate into thin air at the demand. The fact he needed to write a romantic comedy was strange enough but the time allotted to him was impossible. Mangakas took more time than a week to get everything settled. Brilliant stories needed time to be developed.

"I know it isn't enough time but we have to act quickly," she stated. "So I need everything by a week. It doesn't need to be the final product. Just something to feed to the readers."

Takuma wanted to say more but the generic ringtone of his cellphone sounded. Looking at the caller ID, he saw it was his company secretary calling him. This second of distraction was enough for Sayori to straighten her documents and head towards the door. She had other duties as did he. With a quick mutter of agreement, he departed from Sayori to focus on the other worries in his life.

**SoH**

The soft din in the restaurant accompanied the classical music playing in the background. Tables decorated with ornaments and vases filled the floor. Ambient lighting added to the overall mood of the room. Everything felt elegant and peaceful. Though his evening started hectic – filled with calls concerning the recall both from the Council and the Hunters Association – he felt relaxed sitting in the restaurant. As a waiter poured him a glass of water, he responded to the man's actions with a sincere smile, the first one in a long while.

Takuma checked his watch. It was thirty minutes after the appointed time and the two models still hadn't shown up. Izumi's worries were unwarranted. Heeding to the marketing consultant's requests, he had arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early to prepare for everything. And despite all his work, the two showed up late. The irony of it all was rather amusing.

Bored and in need of some amusement, he preoccupied himself with staring at his surroundings. He examined the various couples interspersed inside the room. Some were in bad terms. Some were embarrassed. Others were completely and irrevocably in love. These lovers shared timid glances and soft caresses with each other. The romance inside the restaurant was prevalent; there were families and dinner parties but not as much as the dates. Remembering the terms Sayori set for him, Takuma scrutinized the pairs. Maybe his observations would spark an idea for a story.

As his eyes roamed across the restaurant, they landed on a young man just entering the restaurant. Long mahogany hair, styled in a messy manner, framed his face. Lightly tinted blue eyes – almost grey – shone from under the hair strands. A slim physique matched the grace with which the man took his every step. But his familiarity, the way looking at him sparked a sense of recognition in Takuma, was what stood out the most.

And it wasn't just because the man was the famous model, Senri Shiki.

There was something else to it all.

Shiki noticed Takuma staring at him. The hint of a smile twitched at the edge of his lips. The action was peculiar. Though the two were supposed to act congenial, Takuma suspected another reason for Shiki's reaction.

Takuma was missing something important, something related to the model. But what?

As Shiki arrived at Takuma's table, he took a seat in a chair without Takuma's invitation.

"How nice to see you again, Takuma."

It was not the lack of honorific associated to his name that stunned him to silence. Though the speech was unexpected, it didn't bear the force of astonishment as another action Shiki made. While the model seemed content appearing disinterested before, a smile now revealed itself. The smile, though slight, expressed warmth and affection. It suggested joy and anticipation. It was the type of smile reserved only for close friends.

Takuma's jaw hung open, his mind unable to process a reply. He definitely had forgotten something crucial about Shiki, something that would explain the model's strange behavior towards him. What was the two's relationship? How had they known each other? Many questions floated in his mind.

But one thing was evident.

Shiki was a significant figure in Takuma's past.

And his current life had sucked all his memories of the man out of him.

* * *

_Darkemi: _I hope the appearance of Shiki in this chapter was a good start. But don't worry. Shiki will play a huge role in the story after his introduction.

_Angelle: _Glad you enjoyed the first chapter! I hope this chapter was also up to par.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter was slightly long… I try to keep chapters around 3,000-3,500 words but I had so much to cover in this chapter. But talking about length, what length would you, my lovely readers, prefer to read for chapters?

If you can find the time, please tell me what you think of this chapter. I'd greatly appreciate it. I'm not good at understanding reader thoughts and expectations so reading reviews always gives me a great idea about how I'm portraying everything and what to plan in later chapters.

Thanks reading!


	3. A meeting between past acquaintences

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Vampire Knight._ Hino-sama does.

**Beginning Note:** Okay… I am so sorry and ashamed of myself. I know – it's been three weeks since my last update. Updates shouldn't take that long. But if you want some explanation, I've been busy with AP/IB testing and intense school final projects – junior year is hard, guys. I didn't believe it until this year hit me.

If some of you have given up on this story, I understand. I'm not expecting anything much after this long absence. But to make it up to you, I have made this chapter my longest yet. It goes to ten pages on Word and this will probably be the longest chapter I ever post (since I really do feel 6,000 words is 3,000 words too many for a chapter). In fact, this chapter is double my usual chapter lengths. So hopefully, this is a good consolation?

Thank you for all your support and especially thank you to my three faithful reviewers: _Darkemi, angelle, and XxXShikiandRimaXxX_.

* * *

**P E N - T H R EE  
**How could I have forgotten those two?

Takuma's blood raced as he struggled to find a reply. The shock of realizing Shiki was an old, forgotten friend weighed in the back of his mind. Despite all his attempts to think of a coherent response, his thoughts were a huge blank. Everything disappeared around him – his surroundings, his contemplations, his senses. He could only stare at Shiki. The model's smile had long gone away, flitting only briefly on the man's face before disappearing as if it had never appeared. Now he glanced at Takuma with disinterested eyes in desperate need of a spark of light.

Shiki was waiting for some answer and Takuma's mind still refused to do some work.

Once again the god controlling his fate must been having a great laugh out of this.

In the end, Takuma opted to give his customary reaction to everything. A beaming smile, comparable to sunshine, appeared. He hoped Shiki would accept it.

The model did. And if he didn't, Takuma wouldn't have known because the model's expression didn't change. He only lifted his glass of water and sipped it.

"Rima will be here in a few minutes," Shiki said putting down the glass. "She was delayed in traffic."

"Okay," Takuma said, his smile still present. It felt incredibly false as it always did.

An awkward silence ensued. Takuma's smile remained and he felt as if his face muscles were being pushed to the limit. He had forced a smile on himself for longer times before. But the discomfort of talking with an old acquaintance he had forgotten strained every fiber in his body. He wasn't as strong as he usually was. Meanwhile, Shiki played with the buttons on his cuffs. He wasn't invested in the action; he seemed to be doing it to kill time.

"Takuma," Shiki said breaking the silence.

Takuma inwardly sighed in relief. He leaned forward waiting to hear what Shiki had to say. It would hopefully lighten the mood.

"I am glad to see you still have the good humor to always give that dopey smile," Shiki said. The lilt of his voice didn't rise or fall. The words were pronounced in a monotone.

Takuma's hopes dashed away as soon as Shiki made his comment. The mood had only grown more uncomfortable. The gods must have been having a party watching his life fall into shambles. Thinking about it, he had to admit the circumstances were bitingly hilarious. Here he was – the leader of one of the world's leading businesses – frozen in discomfort. Here he was – the vampire who was supposed to know everything – uncertain about his life or his future. Here he was – the once affable and considerate vampire – completely devoid of any memories of his closest friend. Probably. Because he had yet to realize who Shiki was to him.

His body trembled at the thought. The situation was so cruelly and horribly funny. It was so funny he was keeling over. His hands slammed on the table. He choked for a moment before a soft chuckle burst from his lips. The chortle intensified. It went into repeat. Over and over, he laughed. It was a whispered laugh – barely heard by the other patrons in the restaurant. But Takuma heard it and Shiki heard it, too. He could just feel the model's carefully veiled concern falling on him.

Shiki was feeling worried for _him_. Oh that just made his current position funnier. It was so damn comical. He could feel tears falling out of his eyes from how laughable it was.

He looked back up. Rima was standing there by Shiki. She must have arrived some time after Takuma's laughing fit commenced. Her blue eyes – cold as Shiki's – gazed down at Takuma. She didn't blink. She didn't look judgmental or inquisitive. She simply stared.

Shiki glanced up at her. "What do you think happened to Takuma, ne?"

No sound escaped her lips. Her attention shifted towards Shiki before flicking back to Takuma. "Maybe he has finally had his breakdown," she said in an even tone. "Been cheerful too much for his own good."

Shiki snuck a peek at Takuma. His eyes returned to Rima. "Maybe."

Takuma cursed inside. The situation was ridiculous. He had to stay focused. He was there for a reason. He needed to get Shiki and Rima to sign the contract. Laughing hysterically was never a good choice of action at a business meeting. For all he knew, the two probably thought he was crazy. Choking back another laugh, he coughed and straightened himself. He placed another careful smile on his face and folded his arms on the table.

"Sorry about that," he said. He kept his voice cheerful and apologetic. A lie easily left his lips. "Your comment just made me remember this hilarious joke I once heard."

"Really" was all the two said in reply. They made no other question and their faces betrayed no other emotion.

Rima took a seat next to Shiki. The models did nothing else. They simply stared at him waiting for him to continue the conversation.

"But since I don't like beating around the bush, how about we get down to business?" Takuma bent down to his suitcase and withdrew a manila folder. He opened it and laid it in front of Shiki and Rima. Clapping his hands together, he said, "I wanted to give a brief explanation of all the terms in this contract. By signing the contract, you agree to Miracle Capella's exclusive right to use you for any of the promotional campaigns it serves for other companies. This includes advertisements, press releases, banquets, and –"

Shiki started looking through his pockets, evidently searching for something. Takuma faltered for a brief moment but resumed speaking.

"…any other PR projects the company specializes in. I find that…"

Rima was also now digging through her red Gucci bag. Takuma's jaw hung limp for a second before he snapped back into concentration. What were these two doing?

"As I said, I find that having a specialized relationship between you and Miracle Capella would be a win-win situation. You have a guaranteed partner in all your endeavors while Miracle Capella can rest assured that it will never –"

Rima finally pulled out a black pen from her bag. She handed it to Shiki, who – without a glance back to Takuma – signed the contract at the indicated lines. Rima did the same. Shiki pushed back the contract towards Takuma and leaned back on his chair.

Takuma was now under red alert. If he had a little factory in his brain, the factory would have been in utter chaos as workers tripped and machinery broke. As a result, his mind had completely shut down. All he could was gape. And blink. And stare down at the signed contract. And blink. And gawk at Shiki and Rima. And repeat. Shiki and Rima merely looked at him with their blank expressions.

It was impossible. The two had signed the contract without even listening to his explanation. They had put his deal in good faith. Either they were really enthusiastic about this deal or there was something else guiding their actions. Takuma did not know which reason was right. On the one hand, working with the Council of Elders had built in Takuma a natural suspicion against everything in the world. But at the same time, Shiki and Rima – for all their impassivity – seemed like the type of people who acted on simple, good-natured desires rather than ulterior motives. And the feeling in Takuma's gut, the feeling that accompanied his sense of déjà vu, told him to trust them.

But that still didn't answer why they disobeyed the most fundamental rule of all business deals: don't jump straight into the deal without checking the conditions.

"Is there anything wrong?" Rima asked breaking the silence, which erupted after Takuma received the contract.

"Um, no," Takuma said. His brain had not yet recovered but he pushed it to give him intelligent replies. "It's just… I haven't given you a complete briefing of the deal, yet." He grinned sheepishly. "Didn't you want to hear that first before signing the contract?"

"Not really" was Rima's answer. Shiki titled his head to the side, which Takuma assumed meant he agreed with Rima's reply.

Takuma chuckled nervously. "Why?"

Shiki and Rima exchanged a look. During that brief moment, Shiki's eyes flickered back towards Takuma. They both nodded their heads at the same time as if agreeing on something. They returned their attention to the front again.

Shiki shrugged. "Because we already knew we wanted to do this deal."

"Why?" Takuma repeated.

Shiki raised an eyebrow. "Because you're our friend."

The answer hit Takuma like a bombshell. There it was – the dreaded answer. In a way, Takuma felt like he expected it. He had _known _what Shiki and Rima would say. Yet he had pushed for it, both hoping he was wrong and wanting him to be right. The possibility he had a deep connection with somebody was appreciated. In recent years, all forms of companionship were distant and on a professional level. Still knowing the two had remembered while he had forgotten was disheartening. How did he forget? Was he reading too much into the two's actions? Or was he truly a pathetic being who lost everything about his past, even two dear friends?

No, he refused to admit it. It couldn't be true. If the two were his close friends, he would never have forgotten them. He wasn't the type of person to overlook something as important as friendship. He wasn't heartless – never was and never would be. He had changed over the years. He had become an introvert. He had grown to disregard society unless when needed. But he would never have become some fool who would not recall his two friends.

He was reading too much into Rima's answer. They might have known him before but it was a simple as that. Nothing more. Nothing less.

His head hung low, he stared at his hands. He coughed to clear his voice.

"Well," he began, "why did you agree to a dinner then?"

Rima slightly raised an eyebrow. "To talk."

"Catch up on old times?" Takuma suggested. It took all his effort to make his tone sound natural and not strained.

Two nods were his answer. He waited for them to start the conversation but it appeared they liked being silent. He sighed and snuck a glance at him. They were staring at him intently, waiting for him to say something. _Oh._ He was supposed to begin the reminiscence.

_Great. Just wonderful. Let the guy going senile start remembering things._

Takuma forced his brain into overdrive as he attempted to think of something to say. They wanted to talk with him and it was no doubt about their old memories and new lives. But he had no idea where to start. It didn't help he knew nothing about Shiki and Rima except what he heard from the media. But he had to say something. It was never polite to shirk from a conversation, especially when the other party was your future business partner and past friends. No, not friends. That would imply a deep connection. They were merely past _acquaintances._

In the end, Takuma decided to go with the common conversational starter.

"So how are you?"

"Good," the two answered.

Takuma waited for them to elaborate. He was only met by silence. The clamor of the rest of the restaurant only heightened is awareness of how still the table was.

Takuma sighed. Clearly, he had to carry the conversation by himself. He started to wonder why they would even schedule a dinner to talk with him if _he _was the one who had to say everything.

"So… um, well, I've been running my family's company," he began. He clenched his teeth. It felt unnatural. It was like he was telling his life story to strangers, except these strangers knew him well. It might have helped if he remembered the two. But as that famous saying went: beggars couldn't be choosers.

"And that's been rather difficult," he continued. "The company just has so many different subdivisions. The pharmaceutical company is the major focus of Miracle, Ltd., but then we also have the PR company. To add to my stress, we invest in several different retails stores and hotel chains. What can I say? My family likes power." He chuckled, waiting for the two to join in. They didn't. That made everything more discomfiting.

He hesitated but his rambling proceeded. "And not to mention the Council. There are always reports to reads, propositions to consider, arguments to stop. I hardly have any time to do anything I like. In fact, all I do nowadays is wake up, go to work, go to Council meetings if need be, and then return home to sleep. And what else do I do…"

He trailed off to consider his other options. One answer rang in his mind, loud and clear.

_Oh yeah, I also happen to be this famous mangaka who has a tendency to have tragic endings because tragedy is pretty damn realistic. Have you read any of my stuff?_

Takuma scoffed to himself. As if he was going to tell the two that. It was a major secret and the fewer who knew the better. He didn't need the news spreading to the Council. His hobby would immediately be taken away and he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't lose his night – or rather, day – job. It was the only happiness he had left.

"Nope," he finally said. "That's all I pretty much do these days. What about you?"

He beamed waiting for their reply. The two glanced at each other before returning their attention back to him.

"We model," Shiki said.

"And eat Pocky," Rima added.

Takuma waited for more substance to the answer but he got none of it. His smile faltered. He had told them just about everything. He had given them a look into his life. He had divulged every single detail – granted, his lusterless life lacked many details. And all they gave him was two basic facts he could easily guess.

Now _that _was painfully funny.

"Okay," Takuma said. "How about we get dinner?" He waved his hand signaling the waiter to come. "What would you like?"

"You can choose," Shiki replied.

Takuma took a menu bounded by leather and ornately gilded by gold. He opened it and flipped through the contents, his eyes skimming for anything that caught his interest. There were various dishes – roasted duck, smoked salmon, broiled lobster, all with little French flourishes. Looking through the descriptions, Takuma easily caught the finest dishes in the list.

The waiter arrived and bowed. "How may I help you sir?"

The waiter was decked in a white tuxedo and black dress pants. He carried an ornate journal, which probably substituted the usual notepad. His visage was carefully arranged into an appearance of absolute cordiality and geniality. He was poised, ready to jot down Takuma's words.

Without even a pause to check his choices, Takuma started listing everything out. "For the first course, may we have the Caviar Osciétre though I'd prefer my plate to have a light amount of white truffle cream. For the second course, the Romaine Salad looks delectable."

"And entrees, sir?" the waiter inquired.

Takuma skimmed through the list of entrees. He rattled out his choice without a pause. "I believe we'll take the Carré d'Agneau Bar-le-Duc, though I believe my two friends do not like an excess of herbs in their dishes. So please withhold on the rosemary for them."

He froze as soon as the words left his mouth. Did he just say something about Shiki's and Rima's preferences? Chancing a look at the two, he saw that they were content with what he said. This meant he had been right. But that couldn't be. He had forgotten about his connection with them. How could he have remembered something as slight as their food tastes?

"And drinks?" the waiter asked.

Takuma swallowed down his surprise to answer the man. "Chardonnay would be nice." Takuma closed the menu. "I'll take your best year regardless of the price." He handed the menu to the waiter.

"Your dishes will be ready presently," the waiter said with a flourished bow. He quickly retrieved Shiki's and Rima's menus before leaving.

Left alone with the models, Takuma felt anxiety. He played with his tie and straightened his sleeves. He couldn't look at the two in the eye. Though it was strange conversing with them before, it was harder now. The burst of memory, though small, left a strange feeling in his stomach. He felt as if his stomach was doing flips and soaring. His head felt light. That one unforgotten detail implied so much, especially the fact he wasn't reading too much into his relationship with the two. They _must _have been close. Otherwise he would have neglected such a tiny preference. But it couldn't be.

"I'm surprised you remembered our tastes," Rima said. Takuma looked up at the sound of her voice. Despite her words, she didn't look surprised. Her face bore no emotion.

"I'm surprised, too," he answered truthfully.

"Ne, it's probably just because you're special," Shiki commented.

The words struck Takuma. He narrowed his eyes as he thought about it. They sounded familiar. He had heard them somewhere before. But where?

And then, something in his mind clicked. A memory resonated inside him. A hazy scene appeared. A snippet of his past life replayed in a manner fitting for the cinemas. It was all a film, a film happening inside his mind.

Three. Two. One.

Start film.

The young blonde stands on his tiptoes as he waits by the gates. His green eyes light up in anticipation. His grip on his books tightens. Bobbing up and down his feet, he listens to the squeals on the other side. The squeals were a routine part of his life. Every day, during pass-off, he always hears it. Many vampires around him – his classmates – groan hearing the sounds. But he does not care. He never does. In fact, it is possible he enjoys the energy coming from the squeals' owners. They invigorate him, prepare him for another day at school.

The gates slowly creak open. The excited screams grow louder. At that exact moment, a cheerful grin appears on the blonde's face. He always tends to be cheerful, painfully so according to the other vampires. Apparently, vampires need to be brooding and mysterious. They need to hate the sunlight instead of bask in it. He prefers to ignore stereotypes and expectations.

The blonde tugs on the arm of his friend, a young maroon-haired fellow.

"Come on, Senri," the blonde says, "we're heading towards the school."

Senri Shiki does not answer. He hardly ever talks. He prefers to stare with his dead eyes. The blonde drags Shiki until they reach a female wearing a copy of Shiki's facial expression. The female vampire stands there, looking blankly at the sky and holding an umbrella to cover herself from the sun. The blonde tugs on the girl's orange pigtails to get her attention. She doesn't not flinch or yell. She reacts at a slow speed, turning to stare at the two men. Seeing them, she walks to Shiki's side to also cover him by the umbrella. The three continue towards the gates.

The shrieks now reach a deafening volume. Shiki and the female blink – their only reaction to the cacophony. The blonde does not care. He continues straight ahead. As they walk through the threshold, the shrieks reach inhumanely shrill levels. Two lines of females, decked in black uniforms, wait for the vampires to walk to class. They jump and shout, trying to capture the vampires' attentions. The only forces forcing them from pinning down the vampires are a brunette and an imposing male with silver hair.

Shiki and the female hesitate for a second but the blonde provides them no chance to pause. He pulls them forward.

"Come on, Senri and Rima!" he exclaims. "We always have to do this. Plus, if you think positively about the situation, it might be fun!"

Shiki and Rima exchange glances, obviously asking each other how the pass-off could be fun.

"They are loud," Rima says as they walk down the path. It is her first comment in the entire week. She tugs on the sleeve of Shiki's sleeve.

"Yes," Shiki replies.

The blonde jumps in between the two and wraps his arm around their shoulders.

"Oh cheer up!" he says. "Think of it this way. Their energy is so infectious that it just gets you excited. And their admiration is rather nice to have. In other words, they give us a great start to the day. Doesn't that just make everything seem better?"

The two continue forward without the blonde, the only sign of their snub towards the blonde's words.

"Wait!" The blonde runs after the two and catches up. "Why doesn't anybody else think of it in the way I do?"

"Well, it's probably just because you're special, Takuma," Shiki retorts.

The three arrive at the doors into the school. Takuma grins sheepishly at Shiki's comment.

"Well, you are too, Senri and Rima." He pulls them tighter towards him. His smile grows larger as he says his last words during the pass-off.

"You _are_ my two special friends."

The film ended as quickly as it had started. And with that ending was the termination of his denial. It was true. He _knew _Shiki and Rima. The three went beyond simple classmates and friends. The two must have once held a special place in his heart. They probably still did. But he had somehow forgotten them, somehow pushed their memories away from his mind, somehow locked away any recognition of them. But how could that be? How could he have done such a thing?

He always believed himself to be considerate – the type of person he remembered a face and every single person he met. How wrong he was. He wasn't the image he made himself out to be. He was ignorant and a horrible friend. He tried to retrace his steps. He tried to go back to the past. He tried to figure out when he forgot Shiki and Rima – when all memories of his time at Cross Academy disappeared. But all he could see was the folders of reports and the piles of paperwork he did every day for work. All he could imagine was the Council meetings, which usually ended in shouts and insults. Stretching as far back as he could, he realized he had suppressed everything _not _related to his current duties. How could a person do that? Why would a person do that?

His life was truly messed up. It was pitiful really.

The waiter appeared carrying several trays of food. He placed the plates before their respective owners. As he explained the specialty of the dishes, he added flourishes onto the dishes making them works of art. Takuma didn't notice. The actions were a blur to his eyes. He was too focused on sinking in his disappointment with himself.

He started the first course by instinct. It was mechanical, really. His arms and hands moved by themselves. His mouth opened as if on its own accord. No thought was placed in the action. Silence reigned at the table. He wasn't interested in talking. Shiki and Rima never talked – it appeared – unless they had to. But the silence didn't bother him. It gave him more time to reflect.

It was time to wonder and question. He tried to piece the puzzles together and understand how his memory disappeared. He strained his mind for any more memories of the two. Both endeavors were fruitless. The only result of his efforts was a large migraine. He was so focused and pained that he didn't even hear Rima address him.

Takuma was rubbing his temples when he noticed Shiki and Rima gazing down on him. They seemed to want something from him.

"Yes?" he asked.

Rima rolled her eyes. "I said, 'do you still like parties?'"

Takuma took a bite of the caviar. The question was out of the blue and he wasn't sure if there was a reason for it.

"Well, I don't know," he said. "I haven't been to a party in about four years. I mean, I have gone to some soirees thrown by the Council but they were pretty private and not at all fun." He eyed Rima. "Why do you ask?"

"A friend of ours – well he's also your friend – is holding a party at his new penthouse," Rima explained. "He invited us, and Shiki and I wanted you to come along."

Takuma shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not possible. I didn't receive an invitation."

Shiki made a sound. Takuma wasn't certain but it was like a scoff.

"You don't have to worry about that," the male model said. He took a sip of the wine. "The host never cares about invitations. He usually invites a few in his inner circle but he plans for at least two hundred."

"Two hundred?" Takuma's eyes widened. "In a penthouse?"

The two ignored his surprise and instead munched on their food. Takuma's interest, however, had been piqued by their suggestion. He leaned forward to see and hear the two better.

"What is this party for?" he asked.

"Celebrating his new bachelorhood," Shiki said. "He was getting serious with this girl but then she cheated on him with some human."

Takuma raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Shouldn't he be stuffing his mouth with ice cream and indulging in shojo manga instead of throwing a party?"

"That might seem like a good idea to you, and for me, I'd prefer to eat hundreds of boxes of Pocky but this friend is different. He's more than eager to jump back into the dating game."

"Okay, but I'm not sure if I can come. I'm busy."

"With what?" Rima asked. "Paperwork?"

"That and other things," Takuma tactfully answered.

Shiki took out a slip of paper and began jotting down notes with his pen. He handed the small paper to Takuma.

"Here," he said. "The address and date. Go if you want."

Takuma stared at the scribbled handwriting.

_Next Friday. Starts at 20:00. 2-29-6, Minamiaoyama, Minato-ku, Tokyo. On the Ayama Tower – top floor, penthouse suite._

He gave an appreciative grin towards the two models, though he wanted to chuckle to himself. As if he would go to a party. He hardly went out of the house or office building and he didn't see himself doing it any time soon. He was too busy. He had that new manga idea to create and pitch to Yori. He had to research on romance. He had paperwork to sign for his business. And plus, he had no idea who this friend was and what the party would be like. It was better if he stayed at home being bored and dreary. It was safer if he didn't have any fun.

**SoH**

"I hope you're almost done with the concept plan, Ichijou-san. May I remind you, it's due tomorrow."

Takuma had to admit Sayori's voice had an alluring tinge to it. There was a mellow quality about it – soothing almost. He was sure she would make a wonderful therapist; just hearing her soft lilts would make a raving lunatic find temporary sanity. Yet somehow, her voice brought no reprieve for him. His grip on the pencil only tightened. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration. He felt irritated, incredibly irritated.

Maybe it was because he had received a similar call just a second ago.

He smacked a smile on his face. The action was a measure to fool himself into believe he was happy.

"As I told you the last time you called, Wakaba-san," he said, his voice readily adapting into a light, fake tone, "I'm almost done. No worries. I'll have it turned in tomorrow."

Sayori was silent at those words. Takuma chuckled lightly believing the silence was indication of the call's end. He reached towards his phone, poised to unlock it and hit the end call button. His excitement died, however, when her voice boomed from the speakers again.

"You're lying."

She made no sign of being polite. Her words were blunt and piercing. He flinched. It reminded him of how two certain models spoke. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Ever since his meeting with Shiki and Rima, his thoughts always trailed towards the two. It was worrying to say the least.

"Why do you say that?" he asked. His eyes didn't meet the phone. It was as if the phone was Sayori herself. At the moment, he was too embarrassed to look at her.

"I can hear the falsity in your voice," she replied. "What have you completed?"

He sighed. There was no way to get out of it. He had to tell her the truth, regardless of its worrying implications.

"I finished the character sketches," he said. "I've gotten their names, too, along with irrelevant information like horoscopes, height, blood type, favorite type of food – the type of things most shojo mangakas like to do and then place into their side notes."

"But?" she prompted.

He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his temples. "I haven't figured out a plot yet."

"You had a week to create something."

"Yes, well, it takes a long time to come up with a suitable plot," he snapped. He recoiled at the harshness of his voice but that didn't stop him from continuing his bitter tirade. "And I'm not exactly a romance connoisseur, am I?"

He was met by silence. Groaning, he leaned back onto his chair and closed his eyes. He tried to clear his mind of his frustrations. He had to remain calm despite the stress from his work.

Finally, Sayori spoke, her soft tenor bearing no indication of her pain or shock at his retort.

"Have you tried watching romance movies?" she asked.

He clenched his teeth. "Yes."

"Read romance novels?"

"Yes."

"Listened to romance songs?"

"Of course."

"And still no inspiration?"

Takuma ran his hands through his hair. "Not at all."

"If you need, I can help you brainstorm ideas," Sayori suggested. "Where's your house? I was planning on going to a little dinner party with some of my friends but I can stop at your house instead. Maybe we can think up of something and solve all our problems."

"No, no," he quickly answered. "You should enjoy that dinner party. Don't worry about me. I promise you: I'll think of something."

"Are you sure?" She sounded uncertain and suspicious of his affirmation.

"As sure as I am that dogs have floppy ears."

"Some dogs don't have floppy ears, Ichijou-san."

He laughed nervously at that. "Excuse my bad simile. I'm fine though. Have fun at the party!"

Before Sayori could protest, he hung up the phone. With the executive of ReMi magazine out of the way, maybe he could focus on getting a plot developed. As soon as the thought came to him, however, he scoffed at it. It was clearly impossible for him to think up a normal romance story, free from destruction while being brilliant.

He had a few plot plans. He first thought of a story about girl who meets a boy with an incurable terminal illness. But instantly upon writing the idea on paper, he realized how bad the concept was. The only proper and realistic way to end the story was with death. Plus the story lacked any comedic element. Then he considered writing a manga about two competitive students who fall in love. But that was too cliché and done too death. Any potential plot was only overused and seen before. Nothing worked. He was a failure as a mangaka.

Still unwilling to give up, Takuma decided to take a different approach. He flipped through his character sketches. Maybe they would inspire him with a story plan. His character concepts were created easily enough. His experience reading shojo manga had given him a good idea of what characters were expected for the romantic comedy genre. He didn't even think as he drew up two unique protagonists – a handsome man with sultry eyes and a young woman with a penchant for disguising herself as hideous. But for all he tried, the plot didn't come to him – at least, not like his characters. His attempts were fruitless, despairingly so.

He slammed closed his notebook and pushed it away with a force. Loose papers flew in the air, scattering on his desk. One landed conveniently in front of his eyes. His glanced brushed past the words, though as soon as his gaze left the paper, he redoubled and looked back.

The words were the exact ones he read a week earlier.

_Next Friday. Starts at 20:00. 2-29-6, Minamiaoyama, Minato-ku, Tokyo. On the Ayama Tower – top floor, penthouse suite._

It was for the party happening that night. Takuma remembered scoffing upon receiving the slip of paper. But now he felt differently. Now the prospects of going to a party appealed to him. For some reason, he felt drawn to the words. It was as if some higher power was telling him the celebration was a good idea.

He crumpled the paper in his hands.

And made a decision.

Checking the time on his watch, he saw it was only 19:00. He had an hour to get prepared and drive to the destination. That was more than enough time for him.

Running out of his workroom into his bedroom, he quickly looked through his closet for a suitable outfit. It had been so long since he went out that he knew nothing about what to wear. In the end, he settled for a black vest matched with slacks and green dress shirt. He threw the clothes on and strode into his bathroom to check his appearance in the mirror.

Purple bags lined the bottom of his eyes. His cheeks were sallow. Though vampires naturally had pale skin, his white pallor was unnatural. It was frightening to behold. He looked lifeless. He didn't look himself. Or maybe that was his new appearance – what people now saw when they looked at him. He pushed the thought away. It was unsettling.

He didn't always look like this, he told himself. It was just a result of the week's stress. He had spent days and nights awake for the past week, trying to find a solution to his manga problems. That was why he looked so different. There was no other reason.

Quickly spraying on some cologne, he then grabbed his wallet and keys. As he exited his apartment, a passing thought came. Logically, it wasn't a good idea to leave his house and go to a party. He would only feel uncomfortable. Plus, he needed to finish that manga concept plan. He had no free time. He couldn't parade around not doing anything.

But as he got into his car and drove away, another thought slipped into his mind. Maybe getting outside would do him some good. Maybe he would find some inspiration at the party. Maybe he needed to start finding a life.

* * *

**Angelle: **Yeah, it is kind of peculiar that Takuma forgot his two closest friends but no worries! I've figured out an explanation for everything, something that might be far-fetched but makes more sense than him just forgetting. As for Shiki and Rima... hope they weren't too OOC in this chapter (it's really hard writing those two since they are usually so silent in canon that I can't imagine them talking too much).

**Darkemi: **Thanks for your review and hopefully, this chapter didn't disappoint!

* * *

**A/N: **So I realized Takuma – with his laughing fit – was slightly OOC in this chapter but he's kind of hysterical at the moment… and we can just assume hysteria makes people not act like themselves. Right? *hopes that explanation is okay*

Also, I hope the shift into the present tense wasn't weird. It was actually a stylistic experiment for me. I was trying to convey how Takuma is seeing everything in his past happening as if it was in real time. If it felt bizarre, just tell me and I'll fix it.

**As another note:** I will not be updating AT ALL in June. This is a heads-up. June is a busy month for me since I'll be at a camp and Disney World for half of the time. Furthermore, I really wanted to squeeze one chapter in but now my** laptop** needs **intense surgery**. The fan is broken and this can impact my CPU... so I'll have to use my old dinosaur laptop which is not Internet or writing friendly. I might be on this site to review but doing anything else is impossible. I'm very sorry for this other long absence but I'll get a chapter up ASAP in July and try to get a more consistent update schedule. I hope you continue to support me during that time.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing my story! You don't understand how much it means to me - whenever I get a review, it somewhat inspires me to write quicker (I DO eventually write the chapter but I'm just slower at it).

Until then…


	4. The idea comes and ignites the plot!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Vampire Knight _and its characters. Matsuri Hino does.

**Beginning Note: **Sorry it took so long to get this out. I had forgotten what I wanted to do on this chapter and it took me some time to remember everything. But hopefully, this chapter was well worth the wait – it does advance the plot considerably. Yep, exposition is complete! Now we get into the summary. :)

_And thanks to my reviewers for last chapter: _XxXShikiandRimaXxX, Darkemi, _and_ TakumaIchijo. _And I really appreciate all the alerts and faves, too!_

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**P E N – F O U R  
**Why didn't I think of this before?

The last time Takuma went to a party, he had been greeted by loud music, wild dancing, and the greatest fanfare of the century. Or at least, that was how he remembered it. His memory was not his strong suit as recent events had proved, and as he stood in front of the door – the entrance to the penthouse where the party was held, he assumed – he found himself doubting his recollections.

Stillness surrounded the entrance. Cheers, talk, music, cacophony – all were nonexistent. He checked the address on the slip of paper, wondering if he could have mixed up the directions. But no, he wasn't wrong. The party was at the Ayama Tower. He knew Tokyo and he was certain he was at the right place.

With no other path in sight, Takuma decided to knock on the door and see what would come. The pounding of fist on wood rang in the silent hallway. It bounced of the walls, reverberated in his eardrums as if he had made a monumental decision – as if there was no going back.

A few moments later, the door flung open to reveal a tall man with orange hair. Takuma blinked, trying to gauge where he had seen the man before. The man was a noble vampire – there was no doubt about _that_, judging from his aura. But there was something else about his chiseled features and grave expression, something that said Takuma knew him. The man blinked with wide-eyes.

"Takuma-kun?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

The truth no longer needed to be spelled out. Takuma instantly knew why the man was familiar. He was another one of Takuma's past friends, another one of those people the blond vampire had forgotten. Takuma placed a smile on his face, masking his actual exasperation with recent events. It seemed as if fate had a way of playing with him; it liked to force him to confront things he'd rather not.

"The one and only," Takuma said. As the man stepped aside, Takuma walked into the suite. The living room was fairly large – big enough to house fifty or so people – and decorated with modern furniture and gaudy ornaments. It represented a display of wealth and power unlike Takuma's living room, an empty space except for a sofa and table. With a soft whistle, he said, "Nice place you have here."

He had yet to reveal that he had no idea who the man was.

"You really think I'd make my living room this showy?" The man scoffed.

Takuma easily caught onto the man's distaste. "Not at all," he lied.

The man now leaned against the wall, hands folded over his chest. A skeptical expression covered his visage. "What are you doing here?"

"Somebody invited me to a party," Takuma answered. "They said it would be here. Did I come to the wrong place?"

The man raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. "No, there's definitely a party here. I'm just surprised to see you. You disappeared off the face of the earth for several years, and then one day, you just show up in the doorway all out of the blue. How'd you expect me to act?"

Takuma didn't meet the man's gaze. The conversation flowed naturally as a reunion between two friends, but the falsity of everything pierced his soul. It wracked him with guilt. He was putting up an act. Looking at his reflection, he saw his usual smile – large, white teeth flashing. _Funny._ He was certain he had been frowning since he entered the penthouse.

"Don't know," Takuma answered. His face still stretched in a smile. He was still pretending he remembered the man.

One of the man's eyebrows rose up and he narrowed his eyes. He had noticed something. Takuma felt his heart still. Maybe the man had figured out Takuma's lies. The prospect was both relaxing and unnerving. Taking a step forward, the man prepared to speak but a new figure interrupted him.

"Akatsuki, where's my hair gel?" A blond male strode into the living room. He didn't seem to notice Takuma, heading straight for the tall man.

"By the bathroom sink," the man answered. His gaze was still on Takuma.

The blond grinned in satisfaction and flipped around, only to see Takuma. He froze, paralyzed as a statue. Icy blue eyes widened. His jaw slackened into a gape.

"T-T-Takuma-kun?" he stuttered.

"The one and only," Takuma responded.

"Where have you been?" The blond had brightened considerably. He approached Takuma, a new character entering his smile. It appeared almost mischievous.

"At home and the office mostly," said Takuma.

"Ah, yes," the blond said nodding his head, "I heard you had become a workaholic." He peered at Takuma with inquisitive eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Senri and Rima told me about the party here." It always shocked Takuma how he could feign things so easily. The familiar way he called the two models easily rolled off his tongue as if nothing was wrong.

"You decided to come early then."

"I'm not early. The party starts at 20, right?" he asked. Checking his watch, he noted that the time read '20:05.' "I'm about right on time."

The blond chuckled. It was a childish laugh with a mocking tint hidden in it. "Haven't you heard of the term 'fashionably late,' Takuma-kun?"

"Fashionably late?"

"Yeah, nobody goes to parties right on time," the blond explained. "They usually come an hour later."

"Oh." Society and their social rules were awfully peculiar, Takuma decided. Awfully peculiar.

The blond nudged Takuma, a sly expression on his face. It was as if he was catching onto Takuma's most precious secret, though the green-eyed vampire highly doubted it. He didn't know the blond – or at least he didn't know the blond from recently – but he didn't expect the vampire to be _that _crafty.

"When's the last time you went to a party anyways?" the blond asked.

"I don't know…" Takuma trailed off, trying to recall everything. He felt blood rush to his cheeks as he said, "Maybe five years ago?"

The blond whitened. "So the rumors are right. You have decided to become a hermit."

"Well, the hermit life is pretty fun," Takuma joked. He erupted into laughter, which the blond joined. Only the tall man remained silent.

"You can wait here for the next hour then," the blond said after he had calmed down. He started to move deeper into his apartment. "Help yourself to some beer or wine if you'd like."

The tall man gave a nod before following his friend. Takuma was alone, left to reflect on what had just happened.

**SoH**

"So Onii-chan then got on his knees and proposed to me, right in front of everybody." Yuuki Kuran beamed at Takuma, waiting for his reaction.

He stifled back a yawn and nodded his head. Glancing at his watch, he saw a half-an-hour had passed. It had taken Yuuki thirty minutes – _thirty _minutes to tell a proposal story. And he had asked for the short and succinct version.

Outside the room, dance music banged from the stereos. People were chanting something in the living room, something about a dare. Giggling came from the adjoining rooms; they varied from gasps to various exclamations of love and lust. He grew red to his ears as he caught snippets of a particularly detailed, vulgar conversation.

Suddenly he regretted leaving the confines of his apartment. It wasn't because of Yuuki's presence. In fact, he like entertaining Yuuki. The girl had maintained her sweet character from Cross Academy; it was uplifting to have her around. But his biggest motive for her company was he still remembered her. Years of maintaining contact with Kaname allowed him to not forget the Kuran family. Yuuki was a refuge from the waters of guilt he was drowning in – the murky storm hitting him whenever a stranger recognized him as a close acquaintance.

"That's very romantic, Yuuki-sama," Takuma commented about her story. "Very romantic indeed."

"I know, right?" She placed her hand over her heart and gave a long sigh. "That was the happiest day of my life, so far. The moment was so beautiful – something straight from a shojo manga."

Her words hit Takuma like an arrow. He had been reclining on his chair, but now he straightened himself.

"What did you say?" he asked in alert.

She cocked her head to the side. The expression on her face spoke confusion. "I just said Kaname's proposal reminded me of a scene from a shojo manga."

The comparison jolted something within Takuma – a reminder he had completely forgotten. He paled in dread. His manga concept for a romantic comedy wasn't finished, and it was due the next day. His memory was useless; it failed him in everything – his life, his past, his friends, and now his work. He gripped the rest of his chair in frustration. He wasn't drowning in just his guilt; he was drowning in the work he had yet to complete. He would have no explanation for Sayori Wakaba, and without his concept, he could lose all of his loyal supporters and his career as a mangaka. The situation was horrible.

He needed an inspiration and he needed it quick. But he doubted he could find one in a few hours and at a party, no less. He had spent days without discovering anything new. The situation wasn't just horrible; it was hopeless.

Still he strained his mind for any lead – anything to help him swim away from his current troubles. Yuuki's words repeated in his mind and a solution came to him. She said her proposal was like a shojo manga. Maybe he could find some ideas from her story. But as he thought about it, he realized he did not remember anything she said. Her words had flown into his ears, but he hadn't processed a single thing. He groaned and buried his head into his hands.

The situation was horrible, hopeless, and despairing.

"What's wrong, Takuma-kun?" Yuuki asked. Grabbing one of his arms, she looked at him with large, brown eyes. It warmed his heart. The girl had a way with comforting people. Maybe that was why Kaname loved her so much.

He gave her a weak grin. With Yuuki, it was inconceivable to lie and put on a show. She deserved honesty. "I'm just wondering if there is another case straight from a shojo manga."

"Well of course there is!" Yuuki exclaimed. "Life is like a shojo manga; you can find pure romance everywhere."

He had to fight back an urge to laugh bitterly at her comment. The tips of his mouth did form in a smirk though.

"Where did you hear a thing like that?" he asked. His tone was bitter but she didn't notice.

Blinking, she said, "You told me."

He stared at her, aghast by her suggestion. That was impossible. He would never spread such lies about life. Life was not a pure shojo manga because life never ended happily.

"When did I tell you that?" he asked.

"Remember that time after I left Cross Academy?" she asked. "That time when I was saddened about everything? About Rido's thwarted attacks? About my true identity? About leaving all of my friends." Her grip on him tightened. "I was completely depressed by all the changes in my life. But you, _you_ came to me one day holding a pile of shojo manga." She touched his head. "You patted me on the head like I'm doing to you now, and you told me not to fret. Life was like a shojo manga, you said. It is sweet and lovely. You ensured me that I'd find love and happiness."

He couldn't meet her gaze. It expressed belief in his words, words that he had long forgotten and ignored. He had no faith in those words any longer.

"I did, huh?" he said.

"Of course, you did!" she asserted. "And I've never forgotten them." She locked him in an embrace. "You know why? Because you were right. My life is perfect now just like you predicted. A real shojo ending. You're the smartest person in the world, Takuma-kun! Excluding Onii-chan, of course," she quickly added.

He laughed. He wasn't sure if it was a bitter laugh or one of joy by her comment. He felt conflicted by what she said. "Thanks, Yuuki-sama."

"Come on!" She pulled him up onto his feet and towards the door. "Let's go outside and enjoy the party. I don't know why Ruka-chan insisted I had to remain inside this room. I want to enjoy the festivities!"

The two exited out of the room. The blaring music thrashed on Takuma's ears; he was going to be deaf for the next few days afterwards. He paled at the thought. Yuuki continued to drag him, oblivious the kissing around her. She seemed to only see the beauty and fun of the party, rather than the uncomfortable.

"Should we dance?" she asked.

Takuma looked towards the group of dancers. They were all grinding. Kaname would kill him if he learned Yuuki participated in any of that.

"I'm not in a dancing mood right now," he answered her with a nervous smile.

"How about we get some drinks?" she suggested.

The party only served alcohol. Kaname would also kill him if he learned Takuma allowed Yuuki to drink. She _was_ the domineering pureblood's precious princess.

"I'm not that thirsty," he said.

"That what can we do?"

He searched for an appropriate answer and latched onto his first thought. "We could find people to talk with?"

She clapped her hands together and bounced on her heels. "Great idea!"

She pulled Takuma into the crowd and started to mingle. The blond vampire – the same male who laughed with Takuma when he first arrived – came to ask the two if they were enjoying the party. Takuma had been able to trick out of Yuuki the blond man's name: Aidou Hanabusa apparently. The name was familiar; the vampire was the CEO of famous computer software and scientific research company. But it was also because Aidou was another one of his friends he had forgotten.

"It's really fun," Yuuki answered Aidou's inquiry. "It's too bad Kaname couldn't make it."

"He had an important meeting with the Association," Aidou said. He shrugged. "It's understandable."

The blond disappeared into the crowd to greet other partygoers.

Takuma continued to observe his surroundings when he felt a force in his pocket. It was his phone. He picked up the vibrating object and groaned. Sayori had struck again with another call. The woman was quite persistent in bothering him.

"Moshi-moshi," he said answering the call.

"Just checking up on you, Ichijou-san," said Sayori. "I wanted to see how you're doing on the manga concept." There was a pause on her end of the line, a pregnant pause – the type to come before another statement. "Are you at a party?"

Her question was accusatory but Takuma didn't feel bothered by it. There was no use in lying to her; he didn't quite have the energy.

"Yeah," he said with a drawl. "I'm at a party."

"On the night before your work is due?" Sayori always struck Takuma as the calm and quiet type of girl, but her voice now sounded like a snarl. Somehow he had managed to annoy her beyond normal.

"Yeah." This time his answer came a bit slowly. He wasn't sure if it was safe to provoke the girl even more.

Yuuki regarded him in curiosity. She poked him. "Who is it?" she mouthed.

He ignored the pureblood. Sayori was now giving him a lecture on responsibility. He had enough on his hands and he didn't need Yuuki involved. The brunette, however, was as stubborn as her brother. She now jumped up and down, standing on her tiptoes and positioning her head to eavesdrop. Now Sayori was going on about how everybody in the Night Class was the same – something about being egotistic and believing they could get away with everything. Then there was a quick mumble that sounded like the name 'Aidou.'

Yuuki's eyes widened as she caught a bit of Sayori's voice.

"Is that Yori-chan?" she asked Takuma. Without waiting for his answer, she pulled the phone away from his ear and shouted, "Yori-chan!"

Takuma had to whack Yuuki to get his phone back in his possession. He placed it back towards his ear. Yuuki clambered by him to continue listening in.

"Is that Yuuki-chan?" Sayori asked.

"Yeah," he answered, "I'm babysitting her during the party."

Yuuki pinched him. "I'm a grown woman! I don't need a babysitter."

He patted her to stop her attacks. She pouted, though she said and did nothing else.

"Well, regardless, I am not amused by your actions, Ichijou-san," Sayori scolded in her soft voice. "I had always believed you to be the most grounded of all the Night Class students. Apparently, you have changed considerably since your time at Cross Academy."

"How right you are, Wakaba-san," he agreed. _How right you are._

"So what are we going to do about that concept due tomorrow?"

He sighed. She was putting him on the spot and he hated it.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully.

"That's not very comforting."

"How right you are."

His eyes started flicking from place to place. One moment, he was looking at Aidou flirting with a pretty redhead. The next, he was staring at the balcony where Shiki and Rima stood talking with Kain – the tall man who had greeted Takuma first – and a blonde called 'Ruka.'

He gulped when he saw the two. Throughout the entire party, he had avoided them. It was all an act of defense; he didn't want to get more memory relapses of his time with the two. They pained him so much because they made him question his character and his past friendships. He was about to direct his vision elsewhere when something happened.

Rima took a step forward but despite her usual poise, she slipped and fell backwards. But before she could hit the floor, Shiki had caught her in a pose reminiscent of Prince Charming saving his love.

He didn't know how he forgot about it because as he stared at the two, a memory resurfaced. It was a small, fleeting thing but it was a revealing recollection. He saw a maroon-haired boy sneaking admiring glances at an orange-haired female. And the girl was returning those looks in secret, too. The memory died, and Takuma was left to stare at the scene in front of him.

The moment flashed before his eyes, leaving an imprint on his mind. It was as if he was a photographer. His camera caught the scene and he was left with an image – something that could not be erased or deleted. Even if he blinked or closed his eyes for several minutes, the picture would remain, perfect in all of its details. The lighting would stay the same – grand in the way it lit up the faces. The concentration would be clear, and the focus directed at the right two people.

A grin spread across his face.

The photo his mind captured was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. The longing eyes full of desire for one another, the handsome faces made for a hero and heroine, the stereotypical pose – it was _made _to be written into a story.

More specifically, it was made to be written into a shojo manga.

"Hey, Wakaba-san," he said into the phone, "I have good news for you."

"And what do those good news concern?"

Takuma snuck another look at Shiki and Rima. The two had long parted from each other, but that moment between the two was inerasable.

"I just figured out the plot of my new manga."

* * *

**A/N: **This might not be my best chapter because I didn't really go back and re-edit it. The reason why is because I learned one of my readers is getting their Internet cut off tomorrow, so I wanted to get this chapter out today (rather than Monday like I initially planned).

I'll try to update every week or once every two weeks. I still don't have my laptop with all my plans back, so I'll kind of have to wing it with the plot in these next few chapters.

Thanks for your continued support! Please drop a review if you can – I always love to hear your opinions. :)


	5. A decision, a worry, and a lie

**Disclaimer: **We all know the drill. I do not own _Vampire Knight _or its characters. Not at all.

Thanks to my three lovely reviewers from last chapter: _TakumaIchijo_, _FragileBlueButterflies _(previously XxXShikiandRimaXxX, and _koori no hime_.

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**P E N – F I V E  
**How can my plan possibly go wrong?

"Forget reality for a moment. Forget that you are sitting in a meeting room and instead imagine the set-up with me."

Takuma took the laser pointer and directed it at the screen, pressing a button. The projector turned on, revealing a scanned image. Colored by copic markers, the drawing had the two characters standing back to back in a defiant gesture. The woman had long black hair, and the man stared out with deep, penetrating brown eyes. Takuma beamed at the group before him. Male editors of _ReMi Magazine _whistled, while the female editors fanned themselves. Only Sayori Wakaba, ever the stoic president, stared at the image without the faintest change in expression.

"First," he said, changing to a slide with just the man, "we have Takeshi Tsukino, international celebrity and Oscar-winning actor. Age: 23. The most eligible bachelor in all of Japan, he is distant to women everywhere because of a difficult past with his mother." Takuma glanced back at the staff and paused for dramatic effect. "Except for one person."

With another click, the slide switched to a rough sketch of the woman.

"Michi Hayashi, longtime best friend to Takeshi and famous singer-songwriter. Age: 20. Michi has a penchant in disguising herself as hideous to escape detection in her escapades. In love with her work, she believes in being single until she can achieve her goal of winning a Grammy.

"So how do these two's stories collide into a romantic comedy?" Takuma asked.

One editor raised his hand to answer.

Rolling his eyes and enlarging his smile, Takuma added, "That's a rhetorical question."

The hand dropped.

He changed to the next slide, showing the two protagonists with the main cast. It was a lively bunch of different heights, styles, and quirks – the perfect character ingredients for a shojo manga. Leaning against the wall, he began his explanation.

"You see, Takeshi and Michi have lived in a tentative friendship all of their lives. But then fate shakes things up a bit for them. Due to her musical talents, Michi is cast into Takeshi's film about a romance between a reporter and a singer. And all of this leads to them discovering their love for each other."

He grew silent, trying to judge the reactions of the editors. But he was met by blank expressions. No upwards or downwards twitch of the lips. No raised or angled eyebrows. No dark or shining eyes. Nothing.

Well, _that_ was frightening.

Clearing his throat, he began his conclusion and hoped it would convince the editors to support his idea.

"You see, this story isn't about two enemies falling in love. Or two polar opposites meeting and loving. Or two destined lovers who must conquer obstacles. It goes beyond all of that." He slammed his palms onto the table for emphasis. "This is a story about two friends denying love, ignoring it until they are forced to confront the truth. That the love has always been there."

The last sentence rang in the air, a power embedded in its every syllable. It hung over the people's head, patiently waiting for a response.

Silence reigned supreme.

Takuma tugged on the sleeves of his blazer. It was a desperate attempt to distract himself. It failed. The nerves still knotted his stomach. The editors remained still, their unreadable eyes on him. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it down. He tried to reassure himself. He didn't need to be nervous. It wasn't like his mangaka career and _ReMi Magazine_'s success was on the line.

Oh wait, it was. Damn.

His attempt at calming himself had failed.

The stares remained on him. They were arrows, poking at him, digging into his flesh, making him bleed. Looking down, he bobbed on the soles of his feet. This was frustrating, intensely frustrating. He wished these people would give him some reaction. Throw tomatoes at him for all he cared.

He just wanted to know how they felt.

A clap hit his eardrums. The one sound erupted into repeat like a broken record. It grew loud. It roared into applause. He glanced up. All of the editors had stood up and were now grinning at him. Even Sayori was joining the fanfare. Katsuro Wakahisa, his editor, slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Takuma, you've done it!" he said over the noise. "You've created a great manga concept. And even better, it's a pure, fluffy romance. You've done it!" The black-haired man pulled Takuma down to his height and placed a kiss on his head of hair.

"Um… Katsuro?"

The editor took Takuma into a hug. "I'm just so happy! You've made me so proud. I could cry right now."

Katsuro's cuddling reminded Takuma of his parents. Before they left him to his grandfather, they too would embrace him like Katsuro was doing. They too would compliment him. They too would say he made them proud.

_You're going to be brilliant one day, Taku. You're going to be our shining star._

They said they loved him. They said he was their precious child. They said they would give up everything for him. But they had lied. Their words never came from their hearts. It came from their sense of duty, their need to be the proper parents. But they had failed. If they were truly a mother and father, they would have never given him to his grandfather. They wouldn't have forced to take up responsibilities he didn't want.

Maybe if they had raised him differently, he would have become what they wanted. He would have become a true shining star.

But he wasn't. His star was burning out, losing its flames.

An unexpected touch jolted him away from his reflections. Turning around, he saw Sayori had rested her hand on his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He grinned from ear to ear. "Of course! My pitch just sold, didn't it? Why wouldn't I be okay?"

Sayori quirked up an eyebrow. She was not convinced.

Inside, he cursed. Recently, he kept letting his guard down. He kept zoning out and focusing on memories he never cared for in the past. His parents were a taboo subject, something he never brought up – even to himself. But now… now, every memory he hated returned with ferocity. It ate at his mind, plunging its elongated teeth into his consciousness. His meeting with Shiki and Rima was the initial domino, the piece that set everything in motion for his memories.

"Well I am impressed," continued Sayori. "Who knew a party could give you such a good idea?"

Takuma chuckled sheepishly. "It wasn't the party per say. It was the people there."

"Oh?" Sayori cocked her head to the side. She wanted to hear more.

"I got the idea from Shiki Senri and Toya Rima," Takuma explained. "While talking with you on the phone, I saw this image of the two." His eyes glazed as he remembered the perfect snapshot he had taken. The look the two had shared was brief but telling. The warmth in their faces was heartbreaking. The pose was magical. "And when I saw it, I remembered they had a crush on each other, so I decided to apply their story into my plot. I've made some adjustments to the characters and set-up though."

"That's very good," said Sayori. "So you have an idea of how to advance Takeshi's and Michi's love?"

"Kind of," Takuma said. Upon seeing her eyes darken a shade, he quickly added, "Yes! Yes, I have a good idea." Her eyes still wouldn't return to their usual light tint. His mind began reeling as he tried to think of how to appease her. His tongue rolled out the next words on its own. "And if I run out of ideas, I'm planning on using Shiki and Toya to get more inspiration."

The darkness washed away from her gaze but it was replaced with something a lot more frightening. Her hazel eyes widened, and her lower jaw went limp. Recomposing herself, she gave him a hard look. Taut lips, slanted eyebrow, slit eyes – all came together to create something horrific.

"You'll what?"

Takuma repressed a shiver running up his spine. "I know nothing about romance, so I can't come up with the plot points on my own. So I thought I could be a matchmaker for Toya and Shiki and use them for ideas."

Sayori's expression didn't change. Flipping away from him, she paced towards the window. He followed her, trying to discern her indistinguishable mumblings. She was worried. Her anxiety pushed down on Takuma, weighing down his high spirits. Despite the party happening behind him with the editors, he felt his insides twist.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she demanded, still facing the window. Her voice remained steady and even but he could hear the anger buried deep inside. "Manipulating your friends to help you come up with a story?"

"They're not friends," he said in defense, "just mere… _acquaintances_."

Yes, that was what they were. There was nothing else to it. There was nothing deeper between him and the two models.

Sayori shook her head and huffed. "I'm afraid that all of this will blow up. If that does happen, the consequences won't be pretty and I don't want _ReMi _caught up in it."

Takuma sighed, though he didn't let his exhaustion show. His usual smile remained. Patting Sayori, he said, "It'll be fine. Think of it this as a mutual agreement! We get a good manga to appease our readers, while Shiki and Toya find they love they never knew existed. Nobody gets hurt!"

She rolled her eyes. "I still don't –"

His cell phone vibrated, interrupting her sentence. Raising his hand to silence her, he answered the call.

"Moshi-moshi, this is Ichijou Takuma," he greeted.

"Ichijou-sama," rang his secretary's voice, "I have called you to remind you about a meeting with the Council today."

He inwardly groaned. He had completely forgotten about the meeting. Of course, it made sense that he would block it out. He did hate attending them. But he was bound to his duties – frustratingly so. It was as if he was trapped on a deserted island and his Council work was lumped together with him. It was inescapable. He couldn't flee. He couldn't forget about it. He was perpetually bound to the Council and their expectations.

"Okay," he said checking his watch. It was almost seven in the evening, the usual time when vampire activities began. "It starts in about an hour right?"

"Yes sir," answered his secretary.

"I'll head there right now then."

"Yes sir."

His secretary hung up. Returning to Sayori, he gave her a small smile. Arms folded over her chest, she tapped her foot in impatience.

"Ichijou-san, I don't like your plan," she said. "I want to discuss –"

"We'll talk later," he replied. He began gathering all of his stuff. Handing her a manila folder, he added, "These are all the plans and drawings to publish in the next issue. I'm sorry but I have somewhere else to be."

Sayori grabbed his wrist to pull him back. The aggression was surprising from the girl. Her forlorn expression was even more shocking to see. "Ichijou-sa –"

He ran to the door. "Sayanora, Wakaba-san."

With those last words, he shut the door. Sayori's face faded from view. But that didn't mean its impact ended. No, the effect of her visage remained, dropping a tint of self-doubt about his plan.

**SoH**

"The Association has demanded that we intervene in a recent string of Level E attacks. Personally, I feel we shouldn't waste our efforts. The hunters are more than capable of taking care of the problem."

Takuma rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to stay awake. He leaned back on his chair and bore an expression of the utmost gravity. No smile played on his face. His eyebrows were angled slightly downwards. Narrowed green eyes scrutinized the vampire before him.

"Give me the documents, Watanabe," he commanded. The force in his voice was unnatural. Despite running his family's company, he never exuded an air of autocratic authority. He reserved the harsh attitude for the Council alone. "I want to take a look at the reports first before making a decision."

Watanabe, a Level B with greased blonde hair and dull brown eyes, handed him a folder of the reports. Takuma began flipping through them, well aware that all eyes were on him.

He _was _Ichiou's replacement, the current leader of the Council.

Skimming through the papers, he absorbed the information. Apparently, Level Es had attacked several villages in the north of Japan. Villagers were ravished and sucked dry of blood. Attached pictures of the victims stank of death. Takuma arrived at the last attached photo of a captured Level E. He glanced at the picture in indifference. There was nothing of concern. The same bloodthirsty eyes. The same crazed demeanor. The same tangled hair. The same tat–

Takuma leaned forward, eyes widening. He peered at the tattoo on the creature's neck, drinking it in as if his life was at stake. It was impossible to believe but there was no mistaking it.

He threw the photo into the center of the table.

There. Let all the Council members see it.

"What is this?" he demanded.

A petite female examined the image.

"It's a Level E, Ichijou-sama," she said.

"I know _that_," he snapped. He stood up and pointed at the neck. "I meant the tattoo."

The woman's attention returned to the picture. Her eyes landed on the marking. Her face went white, whiter than thought achievable on an already pale vampire. Her bottom lip quivered as she staggered away. Her next words came out stammered.

"It-it's the branding mark u-u-used by the Tsukada clan," she said. "The Tsukada purebloods are possessive and like to know which Level D's are their servants and which are not. So they invented the tattoo as a tracking system."

"Wait!" A male vampire shot up from his seat. "Aren't the Tsukadas currently under the Council's jurisdiction?"

Takuma folded his arms across his chest. Shooting a glare at every member present, he said tersely, "Yes…"

"Then…" The man's jaw slackened. His mouth formed a perfect 'o.' He stared at Takuma incredulously. "You're not saying that we'll –"

"If the Tsuakadas have disobeyed vampire laws," Takuma interrupted, "then it is most certainly our problem. Especially since they are under our jurisdiction. We can't escape responsibilities. It is our duty to rectify this problem by sending help to the Association. And I don't care what you think, I'm approving the request."

His words were like a match in a forest. The flame was lit. A wildfire burst into existence.

Every vampire at the table jumped onto their feet. Their voices rose to inhuman volumes. It sounded like they were screeching, and it took resistance for Takuma to not plug his ears. He wasn't in a room with politicians any longer. He was stuck with animals and savages.

There was a reason why he hated Council meetings.

"Sir I cannot condone this decision!"

"Why should we provide help to those dirty hunters?"

"Now just because you're the respectable Ichiou's grandson, it does not mean you have a right to walk all over us!"

"I understand your reasoning but there must be another way."

Every Council meeting was like this. He was playing a card game with his fellow vampires. It was a game where everybody was friends – everybody allies. Except for him. He was the black sheep, the one people wanted to destroy. The cards would be shuffled and distributed. The moves would be made. And every time he tried to go for a win, he would be halted by resistance from every other player.

But it didn't matter. They could cheat as much as they wanted.

He held the ace in his hand.

Placing a smile on his face, he stood up and took a genial pose.

"I'm sorry but my decision holds," he said. "And I'm sure Kuran-sama agrees with me. Right?"

His glance trailed to the corner of the room. There, sitting on a couch by the window was Kaname Kuran. The pureblood had been sipping a glass of wine. Legs crossed over one another, an arm resting on the table, he had exuded relaxation and grace. But hearing mention of his name, he tensed and placed his glass down. Piercing brown eyes turned to the Council. Harsh thumps rang in the silence – the calm created by mention of Kaname – as he approached the noble vampires.

"I agree with Ichijou-san in this respect," he said. His voice was crisp and clear. It was charismatic but laced deep inside was authority and force. The members, save for Takuma, took a step away from Kaname. He was a pureblood. They feared him.

"Our poor surveillance is what has caused this devastation," Kaname continued to say. "If we had been more careful with the Tsukadas, the situation would not have gotten as bad. We must take full responsibility. If we don't, we would be sorely misrepresenting the vampire race."

A trace of protest remained on the Council's face but they murmured agreement. Everybody sat down. Peace returned. As Kaname returned to his place by the window, he locked eyes with Takuma. A message passed between the two allies. Takuma sent his thanks.

Yes, Kaname Kuran was Takuma's ace card in his match with the Council. He was the man always ready to defend every proposal by Takuma. That was why the blond noble appreciated the pureblood so much.

It also helped that Kaname was Takuma's only remaining friend.

**SoH**

"Thank god the meeting is over."

Takuma tugged on the knot of his tie. After fumbling with it for a few minutes, he managed to loosen its grip around his neck. Taking off his jacket, he slung it over his shoulder.

"You must be really tired," said Kaname. Arriving at Takuma's car, he opened the passenger door and entered. "I've never seen you this vocal about your distaste."

Takuma fumbled with his key as he tried to crank the engine into life. He swore under his breath and frowned. Like Yuuki, Kaname had the privilege of seeing Takuma's true personality. The Level B could never lie to the pureblood. The two had been through so much together. Even as Takuma grew distant to the other vampires, Kaname remained his close companion. It was uplifting to have one connection to society.

"These Council meetings are simply draining," Takuma complained.

"I know." Kaname grabbed the key from Takuma and twisted it in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life. "If it frustrates you, we should discuss other matters." He rested his head on the leather seat. "I have a job opportunity for you."

Takuma backed the car away. "A job opportunity?"

"Yes." The pureblood closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. "Kain came to me asking if I could contact you about a business deal."

"Kain Akatsuki?" Takuma remembered the orange-haired male. It was impossible to forget the tall man. After greeting Takuma when he arrived, the noble had proceeded to check up on him throughout the party. If he didn't know any better, he would assume Kain was trying to pry into his life and lies. Not that Kain knew about the act Takuma sometimes played.

Right?

New self-doubt tinged Takuma's thought. It added to his concern with Sayori's fears about his manga plan.

"He's Aidou's cousin," Kaname answered, "and the CEO of Forever, Inc."

"The famous jewelry company in all of Asia."

"Yes."

Takuma's eyes were on the road, though his ears were perked. Most of his attention was on Kaname and his explanation.

"Forever is launching a new product in its line of engagement rings. Kain wants to have a big promotion. He was talking to me about it an hour ago, and I recalled your family has a PR company. Miracle Capella, I believe. I suggested you could do the advertising and promotional events and he was happy to agree. You _are_ his old friend."

"Right." Takuma drew out his words. He licked his tongue on his teeth as he tried to get rid of the weird taste in his mouth. It was a bitter sensation, and it annoyed him to no end.

"And with Shiki and Rima working as your models, any campaign with Forever will no doubt turn out beautiful."

"Right." This time, the reply was sharp and curt. The strange taste had not left. In fact, it was worse than ever. Now there was a sickening tint to it. Takuma gripped his steering wheel tightly.

"You must be happy."

"Eh?"

"I said you must be happy." Kaname opened one eye. The pupil shifted towards Takuma's direction. The look sent chills across his body. The pureblood had a way with unsettling people. "You've reacquainted yourself with your two closest friends. You three were an inseparable group throughout high school."

Takuma didn't meet Kaname's gaze. His eyes remained on the road. A smile grew from the previous frown on his face.

"Yes," he said. "I am very happy to meet them again."

He didn't bother to see if Kaname believed him. The guilt rising in his chest was unbearable. He had put on an exterior of happiness for so long. He had become so adept at pretending that he believed it wouldn't be a problem. But now, his falsity clawed at his insides, making him disgusted with himself.

_I am very happy to meet them again._

He couldn't believe he actually said those words.

He couldn't believe he had lied to Kaname for the first time in his life.

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**A/N: **Phew! I've finally gotten another chapter out of me. I'm kind of wondering how this plot will progress since I don't have my outline at the moment (my laptop is still not fixed).

Next chapter, we'll get to see more of Shiki and Rima again! So expect matchmaking from Takuma!

Please leave a review if you can. I want to hear the opinions of my readers to know what works and what doesn't. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	6. An attempt at a date!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Vampire Knight _or its characters. Matsuri Hino does. This fanfiction is written merely for enjoyment purposes.

* * *

**P E N – S I X  
**How can I make a date romantic?

She was persistent, unbearably so. He had to admit: it _was_ a brilliant characteristic to have in a company leader. It made people work and it showed the subordinates who was the decision maker, who was the one everyone was accountable to. He had to respect her for her tenacity and willingness to incite annoyance to get a job done. But as he stared at his vibrating phone, Takuma began to feel that Sayori Wakaba's greatest asset was also her downfall.

Pushing the phone away, he tried to ignore it. It was midnight and he had a stack of files to sift through before the work day ended. He had no time to hear the young woman pester him about his rough drafts due in two days. She was becoming a distraction—almost as bad as his grandfather once was. He gritted his teeth at the thought of the overbearing man. He was doing her a favor by not answering her call. Maybe then she would get proper sleep. The last he checked, she was a human and so slept at night while working in the day. Or maybe she was a vampire at heart; that would explain how she could suck him dry of energy just by calling him.

The annoying buzz ended. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Finally," he muttered under his breath. Straightening himself, he began immersing into the documents again.

His work's phone rang.

He snapped his pen in half. Picking up the receiver, he barked into it with irritation.

"What the hell is wrong now?"

"I should be asking _you _that," came Sayori's soft, even voice. Despite his rather rude opening, she didn't seem perturbed. In fact, he could imagine her speaking into her phone with a straight face. "I've been calling your cell phone for the last hour but you never picked up."

"I'm busy. I have to sign off several documents and then I have a business meeting with a prospective client in a few hours.

"You could still find the time to answer."

"I'm at work."

"I know. I _am _calling your work phone."

He cursed under his breath at her blunt reply. He really needed the conversation to end soon. He liked the woman but he wanted to return to his other duties. His impatience made him lose the fake politeness he always adopted with other people.

"Shouldn't you be in bed right now?"

"I can never rest until I know the next issue will be published without a problem," she replied. "Currently, you're the problem. I have heard nothing from Katsuro-kun or you about your progress with the new manga. I don't even recall you giving me a title."

"It's still in the works."

"The rough draft of the first chapter is due in two days. The publishing date is in two months. We have no time to lose and the rate at which you are moving worries me."

"I'll be fine."

"Really? No roadblocks yet?"

Takuma bit his tongue. Sayori was an expert marksman. Already she had hit the bulls-eye, and he doubted it took any considerable effort on her part. All she needed to do was point her gun and fire. She got him every time.

"I'm just having some difficulty portraying the chemistry between the leads," he admitted. "But I'm watching as many romance movies as possible, and I might make a breakthrough tomorrow. I can easily draw the rough draft in a night."

"Are you sure?" Her voice possessed no change in tone, but he could just hear her uncertainty. She didn't trust him. How intelligent of her. He remained silent, unsure of how to answer her skepticism. He had no leads, no way of solving his issue unless… She interrupted his thought process. "I can come to your apartment later and we can brain—"

Her sentence was interrupted. He could hear a new voice, faint but definitely masculine, in the background. She whispered something back and the two exchanged a brief conversation. A moment later, she returned to the phone.

"Where was I?"

"Are you with someone at the moment?" Takuma asked, ignoring her question.

"Just my fiancé…"

She paused, clearly uncomfortable with divulging the information. He held his tongue and waited for her to continue, though an inquiry wanted to jump out of his throat. _You have a fiancé?_ But he was merely an associate, not a close friend; he had no right to pry unless she wanted to reveal her secrets.

"Our parents arranged a date between the two of us," she continued to say, "and he took me to his place to taste some of his precious wine. He loves collecting wine, it seems."

"Well, if that's the case, I'll leave you to your date," he said, resuming his usual chipper tone. "I don't want to be a bother. Good-bye."

Before she could say anything else, he hung up. Slumping back in his chair, he ran his hands through his hair. Several strands fell off. Losing hair was a definite sign of stress. If he wasn't more careful, he would be bald before he even reached thirty. Thank the gods Sayori had a date with her fiancé, or he doubted he could have escaped her interrogation. He needed peace; he needed a chance to forget his current problems with his new manga. Despite dreaming up a beautiful concept, he had difficulty executing it. He lacked inspiration. He lacked the eye or heart to draw romance. And he had no idea where to obtain what he wanted.

There was _that _option but—

It was impossible. He couldn't do it. One, he wanted nothing to do with _those _two. Two, Sayori's concern from the editor meeting still hung in the back of his mind. He was worried about pulling the drastic move. He was scared by the idea of manipulating.

But where else could he find some fuel for his inspiration? What else could he do?

He made a snap decision. Pressing his intercom, he called for his secretary.

"Yes, Ichijou-sama?" she asked.

"Can you schedule a dinner with Toya-san and Shiki-san?"

"When sir?"

"Tomorrow night. Tell them they can pick the restaurant."

"Hai, sir."

He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He could only hope his decision wouldn't ruin everything…

**SoH**

"I was happy to see you agree to this."

Takuma watched as Kain took a folder from his secretary and push it towards the blond vampire. He opened the folder and began reading the contract.

"Well, friends are always happy to help, right?" he asked as he skimmed over the details. Years of reading contracts had made him adept at looking through them. In a manner of minutes, he could see all the fine print and understand all the hidden terms. Not that there were any in the noble's contract.

"Right," was the other vampire's terse reply. He leaned back on the sofa and ran his hand through his orange hair. Amber eyes peered back at Takuma, scrutinizing him. Takuma enlarged his smile and hummed a light tune, ignoring the unsettling feeling falling down on him. Paranoia resurfaced and his previous assumption of Kain's ulterior motives resumed. But it couldn't be true. His hazy recollections of Kain told him the man was straightforward and honest—not the type into mind games or tricks.

So why was he still so worried?

Takuma chose to forget his anxieties for a moment. Placing the documents back on the table, he nodded his head. "The terms seem agreeable; I am more than happy to sign right now."

"Good." Kain remained stoic but the corner of his lips slightly twitched upwards in a smile. Handing Takuma a pen, he indicated the line to sign. As Takuma quickly scribbled his signature, the vampire asked, "So I assume Shiki-kun and Rima-chan are going to be the models for the advertisements?"

"Of course," Takuma said. He looked up from the papers. "Is that alright?"

"It's perfect. It's also nice that I'm working with old friends. I can be more relaxed, knowing I can trust you."

Takuma said nothing, except smiling wider. The mention of _trust _sent chills down his spine. He didn't know what was more unsettling—the fact he was paranoid about a man who believed in him or the fact Kain trusted a man who remembered nothing about their past friendship. It didn't help that both cases made Takuma an ignoramus and the villain.

"I completely agree." Takuma pushed back the folder to Kain. "Is that all you want to discuss?"

"Basically." His new business partner stood up and extended his hand for the usual handshake. He readily accepted it, smile still bright and forced. "Do you want to grab some drinks some time? I'll invite Hanabusa and Ruka, and the four of us can just chat and catch up on old times. I'm sure those two will like the idea; they _were _excited to see you again. In fact, Hanabusa wouldn't quit yapping about it after you left the other night."

Takuma chuckled. His laughter was like his smile; it bore the function of covering of his discomfort. For a moment, as it rang in the room, he could pretend he was truly content and happy. "Of course. Just call me whenever you figure out a day."

"Okay."

He waved good-bye to Kain as the secretary led him out of the office. "I'll see you at the meeting on Saturday to start planning for the campaign."

His comment met no reply, though he could feel Kain's eyes remaining on him. The stare was like daggers, stabbing him over and over until he bled. His knees trembled and suddenly he wondered if his legs could support his weight. He was going to collapse any minute if he didn't leave the room. The door was within reach. All he had to do was to not turn around... to not look back. Looking back was a sign of weakness. It was a show of discomfort. It was what ruined every brilliant actor. His world was a stage and he had to play his part with strength and confidence. He could never waver in his resolve.

His steps, though dulled on the soft carpet, rang in the silence of the room. The daggers only doubled in speed of stabbing. He pulled on the doorknob and slipped through the crack made.

_Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look—_

The door slammed shut before his eyes, but Kain's expression remained imprinted in his mind. It would haunt him forever, even when he went to sleep. It would remain the scariest ghost in his bleak existence.

It was one of doubt and disappointment. It was the face of someone who knew the truth.

As Takuma left Forever, Inc. headquarters, his heart sunk until it had dropped out of his body and now lay throbbing on the sidewalk. Passersby trampled on it, never realizing just what they were crushing.

Getting inside his car, he banged his head on the steering wheel.

_Damn._

He just had to look back.

**SoH**

The ambience at the restaurant was perfect for his plans. It seemed Fate wasn't always against him; sometimes she had the kindness to assist his endeavors. The classical music was comforting and tranquil. The soft notes flew to him, calming his rushing heart and almost making his lips twitch in a real smile. The lighting was well regulated—dark enough to create a sense of privacy but bright enough to see. Everywhere around him, there were couples, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears, brushing their fingers over their lovers' skin, only seeing the person in front of them. It was the perfect pot to stir up romance.

As he stared at an empty dinner table, he adjusted his menu in front of his face. He wanted nobody to see or recognize him; he had to stay covert, hidden from sight—basically a fly on the wall. Only then could his scheme work.

Shiki appeared, led by a waiter to the empty table. Sitting down, the brunette said and did nothing, except grab the handed menu. Even then, the leather-bound folder remained limp in his hands and he stared forward in disinterest.

His deep blue eyes flickered over to a nearby table where two young lovers were basically throwing themselves at each other. The man was smothering his girlfriend's hand with kisses, leaving traces of saliva on her. His butterfly kisses trailed up her arm until arriving at her neck. She giggled loudly, clearly impressed with it. Shiki's gaze lingered on the two before returning to the front. His expression remained blank; clearly he wasn't bothered or interested by the disgusting displays of affection. Suddenly Takuma wondered if he made a poor choice in test subject for his manga.

"Is that really you?"

Takuma looked up at the woman staring down at him. She was around his age. Round glasses covered her eyes, giving her an owl-like appearance. Brown hair was tied back in a single braid. Once again, déjà vu struck him, though he could not place where he had seen her before. He wondered if she was another forgotten friend, but it couldn't be. Her aura read _human_. There was no chance he could have known her. So why was his heart telling him she was a good friend?

A smile stretched across the woman's face. She sat down in the seat opposite him. Meanwhile, he readjusted his menu, hoping Shiki had not spotted him. He didn't want his cover blown.

"I haven't seen you in so long," she said. "Not since that first year after you graduated from Cross Academy. How are you these days, Ichijou-san?"

He blinked, unsure how to answer. "Fine," he said nonchalantly, feigning no surprise from her appearance. "And you?"

"Perfect!" she exclaimed, her soft eyes lighting up. "Remember how I used to be worried that I could never find a boyfriend? Well, one year after you left, I met this wonderful man. He's a professor at Tokyo University. We've been going steady ever since. Maybe he'll propose soon, but either way, I'm happy with our relationship."

He nodded his head, acting as if his reunion with the woman was not peculiar at all. As he strained his mind, he tried to search for some clues about where he might have seen her. But his brain would pull nothing up; his memory of her was even worse than those he had of his Night Class friends. He had no sliver of recollection about her. She was not stored anywhere—not even in the deep recesses.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Rima appear and sit across from Shiki. The two remained silent, clearly waiting for his arrival. It _was _meant to be a dinner between the three of them. Or at least, that was how he introduced the idea. He tapped his fingers irritably on the table. If only he could remember the woman. If only she could leave.

"And I've made so many more friends," the woman continued to ramble on. "I remember how I never had a close companion at Cross Academy. I would always stay in the sidelines, watching as the Night Class passed and dreaming up of a better future. Well, I'm living my dreams now. And you were right. All I had to do was act on my desires and actually try to achieve."

Shiki was picking up his phone. No doubt he was going to call Takuma. The woman needed to disappear as soon as possible.

Impatient, Takuma threw away all fake cordiality. Despite the smile remaining on his face, his words came out harsh.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember who you are."

The woman halted midway in her chatter. A thin brown eyebrow was raised. She stared at him for a moment. "I'm Shindo Nadashiko."

_Shindo Nadashiko, Shindo Nadashiko, Shindo Nadashiko_. The name did not ring any bells. He was certain he had never heard of the woman before. His smile turned nervous; it was embarrassing that she had treated him like a close friend and he could not even find one memory with her. She placed a hand over her mouth, which had formed a perfect 'o.' He grimaced, waiting for her outburst.

She would throw water at him. All eyes would turn to his table. Shiki and Rima would realize his plan. He would lose his inspiration. The consequences of his actions came crashing down on him, crushing him with their intensity and horror.

But the anger never came.

Instead he was met with a smile.

"It worked," she said. Her eyes lit up and she touched her heart in a gesture of happiness. "It actually worked. And better than we both expected. It worked so well that even I—" She couldn't finish her sentence. She choked back a chuckle. Taking his glass of water, she gulped all of it down. "What an achievement! I was always afraid that it wouldn't work… In fact, I tried calling you afterwards, but obviously it worked like a charm. This is fantastic news!"

Takuma felt his blood chill at her words. The cryptic meaning behind them was disconcerting. She knew something. He didn't. Somehow he had worked together with Shindo on something. The only problem was he couldn't remember. She did. The idea was unsettling.

"What worked?" he asked.

She turned to him as if registering him once again. Immediately standing up, she brushed her dress. "I'm sorry but I have to leave. We can't have a relapse with you, can we? Then all our hard work would go to waste…"

"Wait—"

She ran off. His hand reached for her, but it only grabbed air. She was like his hazy memories—always reappearing and disappearing, never in his grasp. He stood up, ready to call her back. But his eyes landed on Shiki and Rima. He fell back onto his seat. He couldn't blow his cover. He needed inspiration for his rough draft more than he needed to know the truth about Shindo and her relationship with him. As if to give him another reminder of his priorities, his phone rang.

"Moshi-moshi," he answered.

"Takuma, you're late," said Shiki in a bland, even tone.

"Wait, the dinner's today?" he asked as he ducked under his table. That way, nobody would see him while he talked. "I thought I scheduled it for tomorrow!"

"Your secretary said it would be today."

"I'm so, so sorry." He kept his voice apologetic and embarrassed. To even assist his acting, he contorted his face into a sheepish expression. He was emanating the demeanor of a friend who had messed up badly. Hopefully it would be enough to convince the brunette vampire. "But I'm now stuck doing something else, so I can't come to the dinner."

There was silence on the other line before Shiki resumed speaking. "We can reschedule."

"I hope I didn't ruin the night for you."

"It's fine."

"You know, since I'm already paying for the dinner, you might as well enjoy it. Think of it as an apology gift from me."

More silence entered the conversation. Takuma gripped his phone tightly, praying Shiki would accept. Otherwise his plan would fail before it even started. After several moments of pure torture, the brunette answered.

"Okay."

"Sayonara! I'll definitely show up to our next dinner meeting!"

"Okay."

Takuma hung up his phone, a smile stretching across his face. Perfect. The pieces were in position, ready to be played. All he had to do was observe and watch the scene unfold before him. Slinking back onto his chair, he placed his menu in front of him once again. His eyes shifted towards the two models. Shiki was explaining to Rima that Takuma would not come.

"He forgot. He wants us to stay for dinner though. His treat."

Rima sighed, though her expression hardly changed. "Sure." She sipped her glass of water and picked up her menu. She glanced back at him. "You should order something you like."

Shiki acquiesced to her suggestion. Taking his menu, he began flipping through it in earnest. The two grew silent. No words were exchanged for several minutes, and even after they had ordered and their menus were collected, they remained quiet. Both stared blandly at an object in front of them—Rima at her plate and Shiki at his fork. All the while, the couples surrounding the two were giggling and teasing each other playfully. It was a disconcerting contrast and Takuma paled at the lack of action between the two.

They were supposed to have small talk, lightly flirt, get into embarrassing conversations. _Not _do nothing. Maybe Takuma should have just stalked a random couple off the streets. He would have made more progress than he had with these two.

As the appetizers appeared before them and the two had yet to say anything, Takuma groaned. This was going to be a long dinner. Apparently, Fate didn't want to help him. She just wanted to give him hope before kicking him to the curb.

**SoH**

Two hours. Two hours of _nothing_. No words. No sincere glances. No interest in the other person. His only notes concerned food and some flirtatious lines he managed to hear from other dates. But all of it was useless. It seemed as if only the rather unsettling dates were the most vocal. His entire archive of lines was cheesy and creepy. He doubted _ReMi _would be satisfied if he added them in his story, and they didn't even fit what his male lead would say.

_It must have hurt when you fell down from heaven._

_I think your eyes are beautiful. They are as blue as the sea or the sky or all things blue._

_You know, I heard that if you can tie a cherry into a knot with your tongue, it means you're a pretty good kisser. Look. See? I can tie a knot. So do you want to help me test out the second part of that statement?_

_You may fall from the sky, you may fall from the tree, but the best way to fall… is in love with me._

_I think the best birthday present for me would be you._

_Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you are magically delicious!_

And the highlight of the entire list was when a chemist decided to say: "If I could rearrange the Periodic Table, I would put Cu and Te together." His date had blushed crimson and giggled uncontrollably at his words.

Sometimes Takuma wondered how he couldn't get a girlfriend if _that _was society's standards of impressive flirting.

Meanwhile, Shiki and Rima remained as lifeless as a stone. He would have expected at least some exchange between the two, but they seemed content saying nothing. As he thought about it, he did recall how unresponsive the two models were to everything. They never really acted or talked; they always stayed in the sidelines, observing and acting only when needed. He wanted to slam his head on the table. What luck. His only sources for inspiration were useless.

Staring at his plate of pie sullenly, he began to nibble on small bites. His mind raced as he considered other methods to find ideas. His rough draft was due the next day. He needed to find something quick. Maybe he would have to resort to his observations of the other dates, but they didn't feel right. His manga was based off Shiki and Rima. If he could spark chemistry between the two, then his references for his story would be rawer, more real.

Just as he felt like losing all hope, the wheels of fate switched directions.

A swarm of musicians appeared by the two model's table and immediately started playing. An accordion blared, turning attention to the two. Shiki and Rima stared at the new scene like deer caught in the headlights. Takuma's jaw slackened in surprise at what was happening.

"Oh this is the night; it's a beautiful night, and we call it bella notte," a man began singing. "Look at the skies; they have stars in their eyes on this lovely bella notte."

Everybody was now pointing at the two and whispering. Girls tittered, imagining where the scene was leading. Takuma could only gape at the miracle before his eyes. Something beautiful was happening. Somehow fate had dealt him a chance to witness romance at its finest. This was perfect. Perfect. He wanted to jump onto his table and shout for joy.

"Side by side with your loved one, you'll find enchantment here. The night will weave its magic spell when the one you love is near! Oh this is the night and the heavens are right on this lovely bella notte!"

The musicians finished with a flourish. People applauded. Rima didn't look up; her gaze remained locked on her bowl of ice cream. Shiki blinked. The two were completely out of character. A red tint had seeped into Rima's cheeks, and for the first time in Takuma's memory of her—which was admittedly sparse—she looked embarrassed, worried. An inkling of a smile flickered across her face for a brief second before disappearing. Pleased, she was undoubtedly happy. As for Shiki, he had turned pale and his eyes widened, he turned his attention from Rima and the triumphant musicians. No sound came from their lips. Instead of having no words to say, they were at a loss for words. Shiki's eyes lingered on the musicians before he snapped into his usual composure. His next words came out bland.

"You have the wrong table. I didn't ask for this."

The general consensus was shock at Shiki's statement. Rima seemed ready to melt and sink into the ground, away from all the curious glances. She hid her face even further. Shiki's dead look returned, though Takuma could make out a slight twitch of the eye. The conductor of the musicians began mumbling quick words—probably of confusion—to the model; Shiki replied tersely and bluntly. A waiter was added to the mess; he whispered quick words. After several more minutes of argument, the musician bowed to Shiki and followed the waiter to another section of the restaurant.

The problem was rectified. The musicians had come to the wrong place. The restaurant was deeply sorry for the misunderstanding and hoped it had not disturbed Shiki's and Rima's lovely _date_.

The calm of before returned. People forgot the little scene. They focused on their happy dinners with their loved ones. But for the two victims involved, the effects were long lasting.

For the rest of the dinner, Shiki and Rima could not look each other in the eye. They fidgeted in their seats, played with their hands, pretended to be incredibly invested in the fake plants and carpet. Every so often, one model would look up. His or her blue eyes would remain locked on their partner. The look was deep, fathomless, bearing so many unreadable emotions. But the longing was so obvious. The desire was unmistakable. And then, the subject of his or her gaze would look up; the model would become preoccupied with staring at her nails or his glass of water.

It was a scene straight from a novel, or to be more specific a manga.

Takuma jotted down his notes, satisfied with the night's yield.

It was a success.

He knew how to portray his leads' relationship.

And best of all, he had found his muse in the two models.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, sorry it took so long to update this! A few weeks ago, I had actually started writing this chapter but then school started and I've been flooded with homework and essays (it doesn't help I have college applications to worry about, too). In fact, I haven't done any creative writing for the past month. What really got me motivated was when I realized that somebody actually cared about this story and really wanted to read the updates. So thank you for that lovely reminder (you know who you are)! But updates will continue to be tentative. I'd say check monthly for an update because until I submit my college apps in January, I'll be slightly skewed in priorities.

The good news is I'm working on fleshing out this story's plot in more detail. In fact, I've already come up with the whole plot outline! I have elaborated on my reason for why Takuma forgot all his old friends (and that subject will be touched upon more next chapter - it was hinted at this chapter if you want to start guessing). Expect more ShiMa goodness and self-discovery for Takuma, since the plot is really starting to move forward.

Thanks for supporting this story despite all the slow updates! I hope you know that I really appreciate you guys! You're the best! :D


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